


A City of Ruined Flowers (Hiatus)

by Stella_Gray



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Gray/pseuds/Stella_Gray
Summary: Aerith is the daughter of the most influential woman in all of Midgar, the head noble of the House of Cetra, Ilfana Gainsborough. As the most prized possession in all the city with her offering of flowers to all those she meets, she holds the overbearing responsibility of keeping the city together. When Rufus Shinra of the second most powerful house in Midgar begins to meet with her mother over a secret called mako, Aerith takes it into her own hands to discover the true meaning of their collaboration.Cloud is a simple soldier for the Cetran army who aspired to become something more. When his dreams crush him under the weight of knowing he is nothing more than a weak boy with his head in the clouds, he falls back onto the few people he trusts to keep him in one piece. After bumping into a runaway Shinra prisoner, he begins to uncover a dangerous secret that could tear the city apart.Sephiroth is the most skilled soldier in all of Midgar and the first general of the Cetran army. He's a mystery shrouded in glowing green eyes and a test subject for the crude scientist Hojo, but when Aerith drags him into helping her discover Midgar's secrets, he begins to question who he is and why he exists.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited to be writing this. I think I might have found my next 'Is Death the End of Dreams'. 
> 
> Anyway, since school is cancelled for the rest of the year, I figured now would be the perfect time to work on something new. I've been playing a lot of Final Fantasy 7 to prepared for the remake and I got the idea to write this out of sheer nostalgia. 
> 
> I'm not sure if I'm going to be including any relationships in this, but if it's what I end up doing, I will update the tags. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

_Aerith ___

____

____

Rufus Shinra was back again, strolling down the stone paths of the Cetra house courtyard with her mother’s hand wrapped around his bicep. Aerith shuffled her feet behind them, eyes burning into the back of Shinra’s perfect golden hair, imagining him being blown out of the courtyard so far away that he would never be able to crawl his way back to their front gate. She wasn’t sure why he kept coming back or why she needed to be present for it, but her mother, Ilfana Gainsborough of the Ancient Cetra house, had knocked on her door at dawn, thrown a delicate pink gown over her barely awakened form, and demanded she meet her in the courtyard. When Aerith muttered an incoherent question of why, her mother merely lectured her on the importance of a respectful presentation in the eyes of influential men. 

One of Shinra’s guards was following behind her, black armor catching the sun at every awkward angle. Every time Aerith would look back at him to make sure he wasn’t planning to pull his sword on them she was blinded by the ebony sheen of the pure ego melting off the Shinra-smithed breastplate. Aerith scoffed, tuning out the overly dramatic enthusiasm of her mother’s voice. 

Shinra was much younger than her mother. He rose to be head of the Shinra house after his father’s illness got the better of him. The Shinra house didn’t used to be so ambitious with his father at the helm, but Rufus was cunning. Aerith was wary of his presence from the first moment he requested to meet with her mother. Nothing good could come from the head house of Midgar meddling with the second most influential family in the city. 

Sighing, Aerith stopped walking, the beating of the sun starting to make her sweat, and squatted down to observe the gardenias. Shinra and her mother didn’t notice, proving her theory that daughters of the nobles of head houses do not need to be present for important meetings. 

“You like flowers?” a voice mumbled from behind her. 

Aerith glanced up, eyes squinting from the sun’s ignorant rays, to see the face of Shinra’s guard staring down at her. Their gazes locked awkwardly for a few moments, his long black hair waving in the slight breeze. 

“My name is Tseng,” he said, holding a hand out to her; Aerith assumed it was to help her up. 

“Sounds wonderful,” she responded, turning back to the flowers, picking one from its stem and pretending to stare at it intently. 

“Our presence here bothers you, does it not?” he squatted down next to her. 

“You’re sitting quite close to me,” Aerith said. 

Tseng scooted a few inches away. With Aerith’s refusal to answer his question, the two sat in silence, gazing over the flowers. She twirled the gardenia in her fingers and abruptly stood after the silence became too unbearable. 

“That flower would look stunning in your hair,” Tseng stood, reaching out his hand once more, this time in an effort to place the flower in her hair. 

Aerith looked at his hand, then to the flower, then straight into his eyes and slid the flower behind her ear, not a single muscle in her face shifting as she did so. Tseng sighed in defeat, hand dropping to his side. Aerith turned on her heel, making sure her braid flipped behind her, and continued after her mother. 

The two of them talked business as though Aerith was too idiotic to understand a single word of the discussion. And they were partly right in their assumption, but as boredom overtook her, she began to listen like she never had before. Something called ‘mako’ was tossed back and forth as though it was a secret. A secret that Tseng and Aerith were allowed to hear, apparently. 

Once the meeting had finally concluded at lunch time, Aerith practically ran to the kitchen without a single word of goodbye to either Shinra or Tseng. A woman named Jessie who was approximately the same age as was working there, finalizing the feast. 

“You know our guest is supposed to be staying for lunch,” she said as Aerith entered the room in a huff, “Aren’t you supposed to be dining with your family?”

“I can’t stand the sight of him,” Aerith groaned, motioning toward a stack of steak biscuits. 

Jessie immediately began preparing a separate parcel of food for Aerith to take with her. She knew how Aerith preferred eating outside the company of nobles. 

“Make a few, will you?” Aerith asked. 

“You going to eat it all yourself?” Jessie laughed. 

“Of course,” Aerith rolled her eyes, taking a freshly prepared basket of food from Jessie’s hand, “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one, Aerith,” she shouted after the girl. 

Aerith giggled, slinging the basket back and forth as she jogged past the courtyard and out the gates of the Cetra house. The training yards were around the gates at the very edge of Midgar. The walk wasn’t far from the house which allowed her to visit essentially whenever she pleased and seeing as she enjoyed the company of the Cetra military more than the stuffy nobles, she visited every chance she got. 

There were two soldiers standing watch at the gate to the camp, Biggs and Wedge, whom Aerith knew well, that nodded at her arrival and opened the doors. Aerith breathed in the humble air and her shoulders relaxed. 

She walked along the dirt pathways toward the building in the center of the camp. A swarm of soldiers were taking their lunch break huddled together underneath the shade of the roof. As Aerith approached, she heard the upbeat voice of the sole reason for her happiness call out. 

“You’re back again!”

Aerith whipped around, holding up the basket, “And I brought lunch!”

Zachary Fair was the physical embodiment of optimism. He smiled at the simplest things. He greeted everyone he passed. He wore his dreams like unbreakable armor. Aerith met him on the first day she ran away from home out of concern for her sanity. He comforted her, let her shout out her selfish frustrations and she found solace in him doing the same.

Zack let out a cheer at the sight of the steak biscuits and grabbed one for himself. The two of them sat together in the grass, submitting to the heat so they could spend a moment alone. 

“I can’t imagine having to work out here all day,” Aerith said, “I had to walk outside for hours today and I’m practically begging for winter to come.”

“A walk sounds nice,” Zack bit into the steak. 

“Sure it does,” Aerith scoffed, recalling the horrors of Shinra’s arm interlocked with her mother’s, “Except when Rufus Shinra is involved.”

“You’ve got to keep quiet about that, Aerith,” Zack said, “No one is supposed to know they’ve been meeting.”

“So why do I have to be there?”

“I don’t know, out of respect or something? Isn’t that what your mother said?”

“I suppose,” Aerith stared out at the field, cursing Shinra a thousand times over. 

Zack waved a hand in front of her face, “Aerith, come on. He hasn’t exactly done anything bad, has he?”

“Not yet.” 

“Then stop worrying so much.”

“I don’t like his stupid face.”

“Great,” Zack visibly gave up trying to convince her otherwise as his hands dropped between his legs and his head hung low. 

Aerith changed the subject, “Where are the generals?”

“Probably inside. Why?”

“I brought extra food for them.”

Zack laughed, “How thoughtful.”

The two of them stood, Aerith collecting the basket, and headed toward the building. Some of the soldiers waved at her, others bowed. She always felt uncomfortable with formal gestures, so simply waved for them to stand. 

The air in the building was no less stuffy than the summer heat and Aerith groaned, “How do you go through this every day?”

“Because I’m not weak,” Zack nudged her shoulder. 

“I am not weak!” Aerith exclaimed. 

“Sure,” Zack smiled. 

“I could get you executed for insulting me.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Aerith giggled, the pure genuine happiness on her face summarizing the reasoning behind her being the pride of Midgar. Ever since her birth, she’s only known how to smile at people, how to make them laugh, how to offer them flowers when they seemed down. She once paraded the streets of people who hated the noble houses which conducted how life was to be lived with her mother by her side and the rest of the Cetran family at her heels. Aerith saw the scowls of citizens who wanted nothing more than their heads to be jabbed onto spikes. With the little power she had in her family, she offered a man sitting on the edge of the path one of the lilies from her basket. He’d taken it with nothing more than utter confusion on his mind, but nodded his head anyway. 

It had become her signature. Flowers. That’s what Midgar knew her as: the flower girl. She always carried them with her to offer to those who looked as though they needed more than Aerith could physically give them. Aerith’s flowers had become a beacon of hope and the string that tied the people to an unspoken promise of loyalty to the Cetran family. 

“Here, follow me,” Zack said, taking hold of her arm and leading her to the stairs, “The generals are probably up here.”

The upstairs of the building consisted of a singular room with a large table adorned with a map of Gaia and a balcony. Calm voices strung through the wind blowing in from the open balcony door. Zack let go of Aerith’s arm as she let herself onto the balcony. 

Three pairs of eyes whipped around at the sound of Aerith’s heels clacked on the wood, each with a distinct green glow of authority. Their gazes softened at the sight of her, basket outstretched in offering and lips drawn up to her ears. 

“I brought you food,” she said, voice softer in respect. 

Angeal Hewley was the third general of the Cetran army. He had a gruff, serious demeanor, but was, in actuality, the kindest and most sincere of the three. Zack always spoke fondly of him as he was the one who oversaw his training back when he was in infantry. Angeal was also the oldest and therefore the wisest of the trio. He was the one everyone went to for advice, Aerith herself having spent sacred moments alone with him discussing the seemingly hopeless nature of her birth. 

Genesis Rhapsodos was the second general. He was the sharpest around the edges, barking commands with a no-nonsense tone of voice. His red attire pronounced his importance and being the most egotistical of them, Genesis ate his power for every meal. Still, he had a soft side, though it was only shown for the two people he had any semblance of trust for. 

Sephiroth was the first general. No one knew much about him. He was secretive. Kept to himself. But he was good at what he did. There was no other soldier in the entire world, Aerith bet, stronger or more skilled than him. He was quiet, calm, and always collected. He never lost his cool. He never raised his voice. He never showed anyone what was going on in his head. 

“Aerith, I was hoping we’d be seeing you today,” Genesis smiled and gave her a slight bow. 

“Oh, please,” Aerith blushed, “You know how much I hate it when people bow at me.” 

She tapped him on the shoulder to tell him to stand, an official gesture despite her disliking toward its necessity. 

“And if I were not to bow, I would be missing a tongue tomorrow.”

The other two generals followed suit and Aerith wished she could roll her eyes casually. However, the expectation was final and the generals did not wish to lose their positions over something as trivial as a bend of the waist. 

Aerith unlatched the top of the basket, Zack slowly approaching her side, nodding his head at his superiors. After being handed a makeshift lunch, the five of them sat together on the balcony in comfort, the heat seeping into their skin while they ate. 

“What made you so generous as to bring us all lunch today?” Angeal asked. 

Zack shot Aerith a pleading look, as if to tell her not to mention today’s visit, but Aerith was stubborn and did so anyway. 

“I wanted to get away from home. Desperately. So I decided to bring everyone lunch as a celebration of me escaping the eyes of Rufus Shinra’s bodyguard.”

“Rufus Shinra?” Genesis and Angeal choked out mid-chew. 

Sephiroth sighed, rubbing his temples, “That wasn’t something people are supposed to casually know.”

Aerith looked away in a huff, “I just couldn’t keep it to myself.”

“You really aren’t suited for noble life, are you?” Sephiroth grinned. 

“Unfortunately, no.”

“You knew about this?” Genesis punched Sephiroth in the shoulder, “How do you know about this?”

“What is Shinra here for?” Zack couldn’t help but butt in. 

Sephiroth looked to Aerith for her to explain. The rest of their gazes followed. 

“Don’t look at me. I wasn’t paying attention,” she mumbled, “Something about mako, I think. Whatever that is.”

Genesis and Angeal turned to look at their fellow general, eyes squinting at him in an attempt to read his mind. It was something Aerith saw them do often. 

“Do you know why he’s here?” Zack asked Sephiroth, leaning forward in his seat. 

Sephiroth shook his head, looking out at the field of mirages, “I don’t know much, just that there is some sort of deal between Ilfana and Shinra. A collaboration of the two houses on a special project, if I’m not mistaken.”

“What?” Aerith was louder than she should have been. 

“Keep your voice down,” Genesis snapped. 

“Why do you know this, Seph?” Angeal asked. 

“Because I’m allowed to know it. And, no, I won’t be explaining anything”

They all groaned at his response, laying back in their seats and continuing to take small bites of their biscuits. Aerith sighed and began to take her leave, picking up the now empty basket and adjusting her dress. She stepped in front of the generals and took the gardenia from her hair, twirling it around a few times before leaning over and setting it behind Sephiroth’s ear. 

He jumped at the gesture, almost turning away from her before accepting the gift. Genesis chuckled at the sight of the rather cold man with a bright pink flower sitting delicately in his silver locks. 

Aerith gave him a smile, “I suppose I must take my leave, general.”

She curtseyed dramatically as a way of implying, once again, how much she despised doing so. 

“Next time I’ll bring the two of you flowers,” she said. 

“We’ll hold you to that,” Angeal nodded. 

Genesis gave her a look of faux-disgust, “If I don’t get one next time I see you, I’ll tell the guards not to let you through the gates again.”

Aerith feigned hurt and ran from the balcony, throwing her goodbyes behind her. Whatever ‘project’ Shinra was here to conduct with her mother, she was going to find out. Next time they would all meet for a stroll in the gardens, Aerith would listen. No matter how much she hated the sound of Cetra and Shinra mingling, she would listen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter. Quarantine is not helping my motivation.

_Cloud_

A night sky painted with stars was the highlight of all of Cloud’s days. Sweat streamed down his flushed cheeks and he was certain he’d pulled a muscle in his right leg, which was fantastic considering that he wouldn’t have enough time to recover before training tomorrow. Cloud sat at the edge of the field with his sword tucked underneath his arm, leaning against his chest. 

With a sigh, he hit his forehead against his sword and forced himself to take a few deep breaths in. Cloud joined the Cetran army a year and a half ago with big dreams of rising through the ranks and proving to not only himself, but also all those who doubted him, that he was stronger than he looked. Unfortunately, he has yet to swing a sword with anything other than difficulty and he was still an infantryman with no experience in action. 

He was hopeless. 

Giving his sore leg one last rub, he stood up with the help of his sword as a makeshift cane and started toward the front of the grounds. Barret, the Cetran blacksmith, was usually waiting there at the end of the day, checking in with one of the generals on the upcoming order of supplies. Today was no different. Barret stood next to Angeal, and despite the general’s height, still managed to make him look like an ant. 

They both turned at Cloud’s approach. Cloud gave a slight bow to the general, who waved goodbye to Barret. 

“You heading to Tifa’s?” Cloud mumbled, shifting his weight so he wasn’t so uncomfortable standing on his hurt leg. 

“What do you think?” Barret said, voice low and booming, “Will you be accompanying me?”

Cloud shook his head, “I have to change first. I’ll meet you there.”

Barret nodded. The two of them had never been exactly comfortable around each other. The only reason they actually interacted at all was because of Tifa, Cloud’s childhood friend and an apprentice at a tavern in the middle of town. The three of them always spent their afternoons at the bar with a familiar mug of ale. 

Cloud watched Barret sling his bag over his shoulder and give a half assed wave. Sighing, Cloud hobbled toward the building in the center of the fields and collected his everyday wear. Silver armor was exchanged for a simple tunic. Heavy, knee-high boots switched out for slip ons. 

Running his hands through his greasy hair, Cloud stacked his messily folded uniform in his assigned compartment and placed his armor on top. 

“Is that Cloud Strife?” a voice brushed over his ear. 

Cloud jumped, weakly whipping his arm around to slap his pursuer. 

“Ow,” the man clutched his cheek. 

“Oh, shit. Zack,” Cloud attempted to hold back a chuckle, “I didn’t know it was you.”

Zack laughed along with him. Cloud had always looked up to his lieutenant - he was the only one who ever made him feel anything but hopeless. Zack always stayed to help Cloud practice, he always offered to buy him a drink when he looked down, and his company always made him feel not so alone in a world of people with better luck than him. 

“I definitely didn’t expect you to jump like that,” Zack rubbed his cheek, “You’re stronger than you think you are.”

Cloud shook his head and leaned back on his sword as Zack began to unhook his pauldrons. 

“I take it you’re heading to the tavern?” Zack said. 

“Yeah,” Cloud limped over to the weapon rack and hung his sword. 

Zack seemed to notice Cloud struggling, so laid a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, “Did you hurt yourself?”

Cloud shrugged his hand aside and shook his head, “I’m fine. It’s just a pulled muscle.” 

Zack looked concerned. 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Cloud couldn’t make eye contact, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

“Alright, Cloud. Just take it easy.”

Cloud waved to him with a sigh. As much as he clung to Zack for the fleeting feeling of having a place in Midgar, these moments of vulnerability only made him want to run back to the slums and embrace his destiny of being a nobody. So when he plopped down in one of the bar seats at Tifa’s tavern, she knew instantly by his hunched form that this night wasn’t one for lightheartedness. 

The smell of booze, the giggle of drunken men, and the gentle plucking of a lute in the background served as a new sense of comfort. One that wasn’t defined by unkempt hair and an optimistic attitude. Tifa was a different kind of comfort. She was familiar. Predictable. The two of them had grown up together. Fought together. Survived together. They had always clung to each other for support. 

She slid him a mug across the table, “This should lift your spirits.”

“I hope so,” Cloud took a swig; he’d become accustomed to the taste. 

Barret had arrived before him as he was seated two stools further with a mug of ale in his hand. 

Tifa took care of Barret’s adopted daughter, Marlene, during the day when he was away at work. The two of them were an odd duo, but obviously lifted each other’s spirits. Marlene sat in the stool next to Barret, shovelling through a plate of potatoes and carrots as if her life depended on it. 

“You came by late today,” Tifa commented as she began washing dishes. 

“Sorry about that,” Cloud said. 

“You know I’m going to make you help out so I can spend more time with you.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a punishment.”

Tifa smacked him on the shoulder with her rag. 

“Gross.”

Tifa merely sent him a smirk and went back to the dishes, wiping down a set of glasses and leaving him in silence. Cloud was usually fond of silences, but Barret’s presence made him feel awkward. He took a moment too long to think of something to say so instead opted for another chug of Tifa’s concoction. 

Barret broke the silence, “Have you seen the Cetran girl around lately?”

Cloud nearly choked on his drink, “What?”

“I’ve heard she’s been running around the camp.”

It was true that Aerith, the hair to the Cetran family, had been coming to the training grounds nearly every day. Zack had told him so and feverishly asked him never to tell another soul.

Cloud shook his head, “I’ve never seen her,” he lied, “I’ll have to keep my eye out for her next time.”

“I just find it curious.”

“Yeah. I can’t fathom why she’d choose to hang around a bunch of sweaty soldiers instead of her castle of a house.”

Barret hummed in agreement and turned his focus to Marlene. Taking the last sip of his drink, Cloud pondered Zack’s friendship with Aerith. Of course he’d befriend a royal, Zack just had a way with people. Perhaps if he asked nicely enough, Cloud would get to meet her. 

“Hey,” Tifa waved a hand in front of Cloud’s face, “You there?”

Cloud sat back in his seat, “Yeah, sorry.” 

“I need to lock the place up. Will you help?”

“I thought you were going to force me to do that,” Cloud groaned, taking a look around the tavern. Everyone had left except him and Barret. 

Tifa bid her goodbyes to the blacksmith and tucked Marlene’s hair from her face with a promise of seeing her tomorrow. Cloud simply nodded as they left. 

“Alright,” Tifa wiped her hands on her apron, “You get to take the trash out.”

“Ugh, really?”

“Yes. There’s a bin out back.”

Cloud rolled his eyes and collected the scrap bucket brimming with the day’s uneaten, leftover food, “This is disgusting.”

“Maybe tomorrow you can actually come on time and I’ll do it myself.”

“Whatever.” 

The alley in the back of the tavern gave Cloud chills. The only light was that of a lantern signalling the main road. Littered with old advertisements and rat nests, the rest of the path was a mystery. 

Quickly, Cloud emptied the scrap bucket into the bin by the back door and turned to leave. A gentle cacophony of yelling in the distance is what stopped him. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying and he wondered if a fight had broken out, so he edged to the side of the building opposite the tavern and peeked around the side. He even dared to take a step out when he couldn’t make out anything in the darkness. 

Smack! Cloud tumbled to the ground with the sound of a young woman’s groan. Clutching his injured leg which teemed with the sudden impact, he glanced over at who’d run into him. 

The girl was already back on her feet and glancing behind her. 

“You,” she whispered, clutching Cloud by the collar of his tunic and yanking him up, “Help me.”

“What the hell? Who-”

The girl clamped a sweaty hand over his mouth and tugged him back to the tavern, ducking behind the bin. Cloud tried to pry her hand away, but she simply slapped the other one into its former place. 

“Shhh,” her eyes were fearful and brimming with adrenaline. 

The yelling got louder and louder, closer and closer until it passed. The two of them waited for a while longer, glaring into each other’s souls, before the girl finally got up, brushing the dirt off her ragged skirt. 

“Alright, what the hell was that?” Cloud stood up. 

The girl didn’t speak. She looked young, around fifteen, and was covered in bruises. She looked foreign. 

“You’re not going to talk?” Cloud tried, “After running into me like that?”

“You’re going to help me, right?” she said. 

“I don’t know. Why should I?”

“Is this your place?” she pointed to the tavern door. 

“You haven’t answered any of my questions.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” the girl opened the tavern door and hopped inside as if she knew the place well. 

“Um, excuse me?” Cloud trudged in after her, alarming Tifa, who was wiping down the bar.

The girl looked up at her, clearly uneased by the presence of another person and tried to run back out the back door. Cloud caught her by her shoulders. 

“Who is this?” Tifa asked. 

“I don’t know,” Cloud shoved the girl into a bar stool, “I was hoping she would get around to telling me.”

The girl huffed and laid her head down on the counter. Tifa set her rag down and closed the back door, locking it after her. 

“She bumped into me when I was trying to take the trash out and then demanded I help her.”

“It looked like you were snooping to me,” the girl mumbled. 

Cloud nearly smacked her on the back of her head, but Tifa slid into the seat next to her and tapped her shoulder. 

“Were you in trouble?” she said, voice soft and friendly. 

“Of course, look at me.”

“What’s your name?”

“Yuffie.”

Cloud leaned against the bar on the other side of Tifa as to not make the girl seem closed in, “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“That’s because I’m not,” Yuffie crossed her arms, “I’m from Wutai.”

Tifa turned around to look at Cloud questioningly. 

“Uh, what are you doing in Midgar? Wutai’s a hell of a ways away,” Cloud mimicked her stance. 

“I was kidnapped! Isn’t that obvious?” Yuffie motioned to her tattered appearance. 

“Kidnapped?” Tifa half-shouted, making Cloud jump, “What? Why? How?”

Yuffie shifted away, uncomfortable. 

“Sorry, it’s just, you’re so young.” 

“I’m not young! I’m fourteen!”

Both Cloud and Tifa gave her a look. 

“Whatever, I was travelling here with my family for an important business meeting when I got separated from them. I was in the lower part of the city when I tripped in front of some mean looking guys and my stuff fell out of my bag. One of them shouted about my materia and then took me away.” 

“Materia? What’s that?” Cloud asked. 

“You don’t know what materia is?” Yuffie looked dumbfounded. 

“Um, no.” 

“Why would they take you over this materia stuff?” Tifa whispered, as if it was a secret. 

“As I came to find out, the Shinra guys who took me wanted to make some. I guess you Midgardians really haven’t heard of materia before.”

Tifa was concerned. It was etched onto her face. She told Yuffie to stay put and dragged Cloud to the storage room where they could talk in private. 

They stared at each other for a while, unsure of what to make of the situation. 

“So, this girl was kidnapped by Shinra, the Shinra, for having something called materia,” Cloud summarized everything they’d heard.

“I suppose so,” Tifa bit her nails. 

“Why would Shinra just take a foreign girl off the street for that?” Cloud wondered. 

Tifa gasped, “Wait.”

“What?”

“You told me that Shinra has been coming to the Cetra household often, right? Zack told you about it?”

Cloud stared at her. All his unanswered questions about Zack’s random Shinra rants laid in front of him. There was another piece to the puzzle. 

“Oh my god.”

“It has to be about this-”

A knock ricocheted through the storage room, “Are you going to stop making out in there and help me?” 

Cloud sighed and whipped the door open. Yuffie stumbled back a few feet as Cloud took her by the shoulders and set her back down in her stool. She huffed and looked up at him expectantly. 

“Before we help, you’ve got to explain some things to us,” Cloud said. 

“Fine,” Yuffied crossed her arms as Tifa joined them back at the bar. 

Cloud took a seat in front of her, “We don’t have this materia you talk about in Midgar. What is it and what’s so special about it?”

“You’re really not kidding?” Yuffie cocked her head. 

“No.”

Yuffie sighed and shifted her right hand over her arm, brushing her fingers over her veins. She took a deep breath in and pushed down on her skin. Tifa gasped. Yuffie’s veins glowed a bright green as she continued to push her fingers down her arm. Green wisps evaporated from her skin, joining together in the forming of a sphere above her palm. Cloud watched the orb fall into her hand, eyes wide with wonder. 

“This is materia,” Yuffie held it out. 

Cloud and Tifa stared at her hand, mouths agape and eyes bulging in their sockets. 

Yuffie retracted her hand at the sight of their expressions. 

“What did you just do?” Cloud whispered. 

“How did you do that?” Tifa brought a hand to cover her mouth. 

“Did you just pull that out of your arm?” 

“Stop talking!” Yuffie shouted, “You’re freaking me out.”

“We’re freaking you out?” Cloud pointed at the materia, “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Obviously,” Yuffie murmured. 

The three of them sat in a painful silence as Cloud and Tifa attempted to accept Yuffie’s performance as a reality. 

“Anyway,” Yuffie started, rolling her eyes, “This is materia.”

She presented the orb once more. The center was a mass of dark, swirling energy. The outside was a bumbling of bright electricity. It looked like it was made of glass, though Cloud knew that wasn’t true. 

“Materia is a focused clump of energy harvested from mako and infused with elemental properties,” Yuffie explained. 

“What’s mako?” Tifa asked.

Yuffie dropped her hand into her lap, “You don’t know what mako is?”

Cloud and Tifa exchanged a confused glance. 

“How do you not know what mako is?” 

“Uh,” Cloud let out an awkward laugh, “Are we supposed to?”

“You’re joking.”

There was a silence and Yuffie sighed. 

“Do you at least know of the Lifestream?”

Another silence. 

“I can’t believe this,” Yuffie shook her head, “The Lifestream. The life of the planet.”

“What are you talking about?” Cloud said. 

“The Lifestream is the river that flows through the planet, giving life to everything in it.”

“Listen, Yuffie,” Tifa said, “This Lifestream sounds like a fairytale. How do you expect us to believe this?”

“Is Midgar really so secluded that you don’t know about the Lifestream?” Yuffie furrowed her brows, “It’s common knowledge.” 

“What does this have to do with mako?” Cloud tried, desperate to be finished with this conversation. 

“Mako is what makes up the Lifestream. That’s why it can be harvested. This materia was the only one of my stash that I could save from Shinra. I don’t think they know that it can be infused into people.”

“I just don’t understand-” 

Yuffie groaned and shoved the materia into her skin, the energy seeping into her skin. She raised her newly infused fingers, her veins glowing green, and snapped. A flame burst from her fingertips and danced around her hand. 

Cloud and Tifa jumped to their feet. 

“Materia allows its user to inhabit the elemental properties it holds. That is the power of mako. That is the power of the Lifestream,” Yuffie said, extinguishing the flame, “You can choose not to believe me, but I’ve told you everything.”

She stood, her gaze confident and unwavering. 

“That is, I’ve told you everything except Shinra’s biggest secret.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry that this chapter took so long. Quarantine has made my motivation completely nonexistent. Also I got preoccupied with the ff7 remake. 
> 
> Anyway, updates are probably not going to be very regular. For my other fic, I wrote the whole thing before uploading it which is not what I'm doing this time, so I'm struggling to write consistently. Sorry in advance for the slow updates. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_Sephiroth_

Sweaty, grimy fingers pressed hard into his bare shoulders. They weaved their way across his chest and felt over his biceps. Examined his jaw. Tugged on his hair. Every inch of him had been thoroughly defiled until the constant touch of unwanted hands lingered with his every step. 

“Good, Sephiroth,” the raspy voice tugged the ends of his lips into an unnerving smile, “I can already see how much faster your new dose is producing results.”

Sephiroth did not say a word. When he was younger, words resulted in inhumanly fast healing bruises. As an adult, he’d learned that letting those hands get what they want was the only way to escape the eerie office he’d grown up in. 

He’d never known his parents. Never knew of a mother’s gentle embrace or a father’s encouraging wisdom. Sephiroth had learned to live without that. Instead, he looked in the eyes of Hojo, the man who’d claimed him as his own. With Hojo, there was only rough touches and precise orders. 

His gaze pierced through the unnatural blue hue of Sephiroth’s eyes. His calloused fingers came up to smooth the outline of Sephiroth’s brow. Unable to stare into the disgustingly lustful look on his face a moment longer, Sephiroth drew away. Hojo took a step back. He chuckled. 

“I’ll be increasing your dosage today,” Hojo collected a large metal syringe. 

He flicked the top of it off and poured a vile of a glowing turquoise liquid into it. Quickly resealing it, he grabbed a small knife from his desk and snapped his attention back to his subject. 

“Your arm,” he commanded, overly excited. 

Reluctantly, Sephiroth held out his arm for those fingers he loathed so gruesomely to wrap around his wrist and pull him forward. The knife slithered up his forearm only to slice its way back down. Sephiroth grunted, trying desperately not to move too much. Hojo had found the vein with ease. 

He stuck the end of the syringe into the fresh wound - Sephiroth winced - and let the mysterious fluid enter the vein. Hojo smiled through it all. Smiled while Sephiroth gripped onto the table with all the strength in his good arm. The wood splintered into his fingertips, a slight distraction from the blood dripping onto the floor. 

Hojo ran his fingers down Sephiroth’s arm as he finished, ducking away to clean up his supplies. Blinking a few times, Sephiroth calmed his breathing before gripping his bleeding arm. He watched as the cut slowly began to close, sealing itself as if there was no justification to the pain. 

Hojo grabbed his arm again, “It still leaves a mark,” he grumbled, running his thumb up the remnant of the cut. 

He talked like Sephiroth was an object to be desired. To be renovated and upgraded. Sephiroth knew he was the Cetras’ ultimate weapon. He’d figured that out easily. His physical strength grew after each visit. He felt more aware of his surroundings with each glance. He knew what he was being made into. 

Hojo left him alone after that, ignoring his presence all together. Sephiroth flung his coat back on and strapped his armor overtop of it with falsely steady movements. For now, though, he was free of those damned hands. 

“Shall I walk you back to the training grounds?” Hojo grinned. 

Sephiroth couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a genuine offer, his eyebrow raised, “I can find my way back fine.”

“I insist,” Hojo said, “I need to discuss with you what comes next.”

“What comes next?” Sephiroth wondered. 

Hojo nodded, a sly smile shimmying across his face. He opened the door for himself, confident that Sephiroth was following him. The hallways leading to the front door were silent aside from the clicking of heels. Hojo hadn’t spoken a word. Sephiroth lingered behind him, cautiously, noticing the slightest movements of his hands rubbing together, of how his feet dragged across the floor. He’d started to hum to himself. 

His voice was rugged, out of tune. Sephiroth hated the sound of his voice more than he hated his hands. He always spoke low, nearly at a whisper as he outlined what he planned to do. Chop his hair to see how fast it grew. Slit his wrists to see how cleanly they healed. Break his legs to see if he could still run as fast. 

Sephiroth hated being a toy. But no one had to know what happened in that office. For all Midgar knew, he was merely a talented general with a knack for bloodshed. He intended for his reputation to stay that way. 

“General!” a voice rang through the hall as they neared the front door. 

This voice was soft and warm. It didn’t send shivers down his violated veins. Sephiroth turned to face the voice, a barely noticeable grin cracking through his lips. 

“Aerith,” he bowed his head slightly. 

She was accompanied by her mother, and not to his surprise, Shinra. He’d met the young man once before after a previous meeting in Hojo’s office. 

“It’s nice to see you again, General,” Shinra said, his hand meeting his waist in a mock-bow. 

“Likewise.”

Ilfana attempted to interrupt their potential conversation with a clearing of her throat, but Aerith’s mouth was too quick for her. 

“Mother, they should join us,” she motioned to both Sephiroth and Hojo, “Lunch is just about to begin, isn’t it?”

“I don’t wish to intrude on any formal meetings,” Hojo began to say. 

“I insist,” Aerith smiled, eyes never leaving Sephiroth’s. 

She was planning something, that was certain, and Sephiroth almost sighed. He recalled the girl’s discomfort with Shinra’s presence and her all-too-eager wish to chat about him. In hopes that she wouldn’t spill too much about his secretive reasoning for being in the Cetra house every other day, Sephiroth decided to indulge in her scheming. 

He addressed Ilfana, “If it isn’t too much of a bother, I would be honored to join you.”

Ilfana gave a feminine chuckle and led the group to the dining hall, Hojo taking a spot in the business conversation, explaining his work to Shinra, and Sephiroth falling behind to accompany Aerith. 

“What is it you’re up to now?” he asked. 

Aerith giggled, “Oh, nothing. I just want your help, is all.”

“Of course.”

“I’m serious, Sephiroth,” she huffed, “He’s plotting something. I can tell.”

“That much was obvious.”

“I mean, he’s plotting something against us.”

Sephiroth did sigh this time, “Aerith, that is a dangerous assumption to make. With the way you run your mouth, you’re asking to get yourself in trouble.”

Aerith fell silent, focusing on the back of Shinra’s head, burning holes in his skull in an attempt to discover his secrets. Sephiroth watched as she bit her lower lip, anger bristling through her stiff shoulders. 

“So, you’ll help me?” she said after a while, the dining hall doors in front of them. 

“Whatever you wish.”

The five of them were seated at a long table packed full with sparkling plates of fish, fritters, multiple types of stew, and more that Sephiroth could hardly recognize. Their glasses were filled to the brim with rich, red wine and the handkerchiefs looked too nice to actually use. 

Aerith, seated beside him, straightened her back and delicately took her utensils in her soft fingers. She wasn’t eating, merely pushing the food around on her plate. 

“Has the war been tough on you, General?” Shinra asked, picking at his fish. 

Sephiroth chuckled, “War is tough on everyone, but we have the upper hand. Our losses have significantly decreased.”

“That’s good to hear,” Shinra said. 

“Thanks to your house’s cooperation and Hojo’s weaponry advances, the war has been much easier on us than I expected.”

“Indeed,” Ilfana smiled, “though all this talk of war is hardly appropriate over lunch.”

She nodded at Aerith from across the table, who then frowned at the notion of being treated so fragilely. Feeling mischievous, she crossed her legs with a huff and set her utensils back on the table. 

“I’ve been wondering,” she started, “why it is that Shinra always comes to us.”

“Aerith,” Sephiroth grumbled, nudging her with his foot. 

“It seems horribly impolite to have him come all the way across the city so often.”

Ilfana gasped, her face contorting into offense, “Young lady-”

Before Ilfana could formerly snap at her daughter, Shinra erupted in laughter. Silence fell over the rest of the table and Sephiroth noticed a smile creep over Aerith’s face. The rest of them sat in shock, such an open gesture was strange for an esteemed guest. 

Sinra settled down, “I sincerely don’t mind the commute. I know my presence makes you uncomfortable and I can’t blame you for that.”

“The only one that makes me uncomfortable in Tseng. I’m glad you didn’t bring him today,” Aerith said, her smile still bright and mischievous. 

“Aerith-” both Ilfana and Sephiroth tried to chastise her, but Shinra laughed again. 

“I understand. He can be overbearing,” he said. 

“Tell me about it,” Aerith giggled. 

Sephiroth stared at her in utter surprise; he hadn’t expected her to be so straightforward. Neither had he expected her to lie. Aerith caught his gaze and shrugged. 

“How about this,” Shinra started, “I’ll make you an offer.”

Aerith perked up, excitement present in her eyes. Sephiroth could tell it was a mixture of genuine and deceptive. 

“Oh?” 

Ilfana looked absolutely enraged from across the table. Hojo simply continued to eat. 

“Why don’t I give you a tour of the Shinra house. I realize that our meetings being held exclusively here can be misleading. We can travel there this evening, if you please.”

Aerith was practically jumping in her seat, overshadowing her mother’s attempt to protest before it even happened, “I’d love to!”

Ilfana sighed and nodded, rubbing the tips of her fingers into her forehead, “I hope you don’t feel pressured into it.”

“Not in the least,” Shinra replied, looking over to Sephiroth. 

“I’m not sure it would be best for me to leave the training grounds for an entire day-” he began, but Aerith dug the heel of her shoe into his foot, causing him to nearly bang his knee into the table. 

“Angeal and Genesis can surely take over for you,” Aerith said, fluttering her eyelashes, “They’re beyond capable.”

Sephiroth glared at her, bemused at her ability to disregard all lines of respect. He closed his eyes for a second to take a deep breath in and nodded. 

“Indeed. Then I shall join you.”

Aerith clapped her hands together with a sound of joy as Hojo refused the offer, stating that he must get back to his work. Sephiroth felt relief flush over him. 

“Good. When my carriage arrives, you shall all join me.”

They all stood and bowed to one another, thanking Ilfana for the meal. She and Shinra left together to discuss whatever it is they discussed in secret and Aerith turned to Sephiroth as Hojo left them alone. 

She brought her hands to her hips and grinned. 

“I would say that was impressive, but in honesty that was the most foolish thing I’ve witnessed any noble do,” Sephiroth mimicked her stance. 

“You know that’s not true,” Aerith scrunched her face up and crossed her arms, “But I’ll take the compliment.”

“Why did you feel it necessary to kick me that hard?”

“I suppose I don’t know my own strength,” Aerith flipped some stray hairs behind her shoulder, “But it’s nice to know that I can defeat the First General of the Cetran army in hand to hand combat.”

“You-” Sephiroth tried. 

“Hush,” Aerith brought a finger to his mouth, “You better go inform the generals of your absence.”

Sephiroth heaved a laugh and brushed her hand aside, “As you wish.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to finish this chapter. I've been kind of working on another fic that I hope to post soon, but I am prioritizing this one for the time being. I really had a lot of fun writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy!

_Aerith_

The walls of the Shinra manor were bleak and made of stone. There were no wall decorations, no lamps to light the dim hall. All the life and energy which made the Cetra house feel like a home were nonexistent here. If Aerith felt on edge at the fact that she was in Shinra’s house, the darkness only made her more anxious. 

Shinra walked with confidence, as he always did, but now he seemed to hold his shoulders back a little farther and raise his chin a little higher. A series of servants scurried to take his fur-lined coat and trade it for an indoor one. They all appeared more nervous than Aerith and bowed at the three guests individually, as if they were afraid of the simplest mistake. 

Aerith stepped in line with Sephiroth, who was raking his eyes over every detail of the Shinra manor, looking for any sign of opposition. As Ilfana took Shinra’s outstretched arm, a familiar suit of black armor turned the corner to join them. 

“Tseng, thank you for joining us,” Shinra said as the knight bowed to the guests. 

Aerith groaned, though she hadn’t meant to do so audibly, and made sure her expression read discomfort. Something seemed off about Tseng. He was awkward and his actions were too careful for Aerith’s liking. She hated the way he stood so far away, yet reached toward her so deeply. He was so removed, yet so close. Aerith couldn’t tell if he wanted to befriend her or state his loyalty to Shinra. 

“I hope you don’t mind that he joins us,” Shinra addressed the group, but his twinkling eyes met Aerith’s. 

“Of course not,” Sephiroth replied before Aerith could open her mouth. 

“Then let’s begin,” Shinra said with a nod of his head, his perfectly sculpted hair falling in front of his eyes. 

They made their way from the front hallway to the library, an enormous room with an endlessly high ceiling covered with immensely tall shelves. Aerith wasn’t much of a reader, but at the mere sight of such a magnificent collection, she couldn’t help but want to sit in the light of the windows and run her fingers through the pages of a good book. 

She let a gasp leave her mouth as her mother gave a shrill sound. Compliments sprang from Ilfana’s lips, bouncing off the shelves with fervor. Shinra simply laughed at her ramblings. 

Aerith looked around, slowly turning to allow herself a full view. She noticed Sephiroth leave her side to skim the shelves, running a gloved finger down the spine of a book that had caught his eye. He glowed in the light seeping through the window, the orange sheen running through his silver hair, weaving through the strands as if they wanted to stay. 

He seemed at peace. His shoulders didn’t seem so tense. His eyes weren’t obsessively observing every cranny of his surroundings. It was a strange sight to see, such a powerful man looking so serene. Aerith joined him, making sure her movements weren’t interruptive to his pondering. 

She heard the rustling of Tseng’s armor as she moved. He was watching her. She was certain of it. 

Sephiroth opened the book as Aerith slunk to his side. He seemed not to notice her, but she knew better than to assume the General would ever have his guard down. 

Slowly, she brought her hand to his arm, sliding her fingers across the leather of his uniform. He didn’t jump at the gesture, merely glanced over to her. He gave a silent chuckle and closed the book. 

“The Kingdom of Deceit,” Aerith read the cover of the book, “Sounds tragic.”

“Indeed,” Sephiroth said, “But there’s a certain beauty to it.”

“You’ve read it?” Aerith dropped her hand. 

“I read it as a child. It’s one of the few memories I have from when I was young,” Sephiroth handed the book to Aerith, letting her flip through the beautifully illustrated pages, “It tells the story of a princess who was raised being told that everyone in the world loved her. They told her that she was the most beautiful, the most righteous, and the most honorable. She was eager to see the day when she would get to sit on the throne. One day she fell in love with a knight and begged the king to let her marry him. When the king forbade it, stating their bloodline must remain true, the princess married him in secret. The two were able to keep their love a secret from the kingdom, but the princess longed for more. She longed for the kingdom. So she told her father of their marriage. He was furious and, feeling betrayed, had them both hung in a display demanding loyalty to the laws of the kingdom. The people loved the princess and they respected the knight, so the citizens overthrew the kingdom. The result of such a battle was complete destruction. There was no more royalty and there were no more subjects. Nature reclaimed what once was hers and the ruins grew into the beauty it always thought it was.”

“You read that as a child?” Aertih asked, her voice low. 

Sephiroth sighed, “I didn’t have many books to read when I was young so I took whatever I could.”

“When you were a kid-” Aerith tried. 

“Enough about my childhood. It’s all in the past,” Sephiroth took the book from her and placed it back on the shelf, giving the seam one last stroke. 

Aerith had never seen Sephiroth seem so solemn. He was at peace, yes, but there was a sadness in the way he’d seemed to welcome his situation. It was clear to Aerith that Sephiroth’s childhood was tragic, perhaps even traumatic, yet she couldn’t grasp why he’d be so accepting of it. 

“Hey,” she whispered, “I have a favor to ask you.”

Sephiroth sighed, “How many favors do you need?”

Aerith ignored him, “I need you to distract Tseng. He’s been watching me.”

“Why do you need Tseng to be distracted?”

“So I can get a look around. Obviously,” Aerith rolled her eyes, a playful tone rolling off her tongue. 

“Obviously,” Sephiroth grumbled. 

“Come on, you got me this far. Why not take things another step forward?” Aerith grinned. 

Sephiroth said nothing, but gave her a slight smile. He was in. 

Shinra and the rest of the group had rejoined them by the bookshelf. He told them the history of the library, which Aerith couldn’t help but find incredibly boring. Each bookshelf was categorized and sorted with care as it had become quite the prized collection. 

“I see one of my books has caught your eye,” Shinra addressed Sephiroth and took the aforementioned book from the shelf, “Ah. The Kingdom of Deceit. It’s one of my favorites, too.”

Aerith caught a twinkle in Shinra’s eye as he looked upon Sephiroth. It was as though he was trying to tell him something. He flipped through the pages carelessly until he stopped upon an illustration of the hanged princess, her head flopped to one side and her hair cascading around her body. Her hands were clasped together as if she was praying before she died. 

“There is a mysterious truth behind it, a warning that holds such inevitability in its words,” Shinra said, letting the book slide closed, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Sephiroth simply narrowed his eyes. 

Shinra hummed, though it reverberated as a laugh in Aerith’s ears, “Take it. May it be seen as a gift of peace from me to you.”

Aerith watched Sephiroth take the book and quickly tuck it under his arm, “Thank you,” he said. 

“Let’s continue, shall we,” Shinra’s voice piped up a notch as he led the group out of the library. 

Waiting until everyone else left the room, Aerith followed in the back, taking one last look at the books lining the walls. Tseng kept looking back at her, not enough to lock eyes with her, but enough so she was in his line of sight. Sephiroth seemed to take notice and put a hand on his shoulder, directing his attention away from her. 

Aerith’s footsteps became slower and slower as Sephiroth bombarded Tseng with questions about his military life. She could tell Tseng had tried to look behind him, but as they kept going through the endless hallway, he’d clearly given up. 

Sephiroth put his right hand behind his back and waved his fingers, signalling her to go. Aerith stopped moving, testing if the absence of her clicking heels would trigger a reaction from Tseng, but he didn’t look back. 

A smile crept over Aerith’s face as she took a look around her. The group had moved forward and she had gone unnoticed. There were two hallways a little ways in front of her: one to the left and one to the right. Biting her lip, she looked past each, hoping she didn’t look too lost. Quickly, she walked down the left hallway with her chin up and her eyes darting from door to door. 

She was starting to get looks from the people who passed her by. It was obvious that she stood out in her frilly pink dress and loud boots. Aerith watched as one man gave her a glare and whispered something to the person next to him. She hurried down the hall, taking a sharp right at the end of it, and fumbled through the first door she saw, nearly slamming it shut behind her. 

Aerith flinched, afraid she might have to face whoever was in the room before her, but when she turned around she found it empty. There was hardly any light as there were no windows or candles adorning the walls. The only savior to her vision was the faint glow peeking through what looked like crates lining two long rows of shelves. 

“What the hell?” she whispered, tiptoeing up to the shelf closest to her. 

She pulled out a crate on the bottom of the shelf, a green light seeping through the slits in the wood. Aerith took the lid off with a gasp as the light grew brighter, falling backwards with a shriek. 

Scurrying back on her feet and leaving the lid on the floor, she leaned over the crate to find a bundle of green orbs piled on top of each other. 

“Woah,” Aerith sighed as she dipped her hand into the crate and pulled one of the orbs out, “What is this?”

She twirled the orb around in her hand, letting her fingers rub over the smooth surface. The orb seemed to contain a swirling mass which almost hypnotized her if it wasn’t for her curiosity dragging her toward another crate and peeking inside. 

Every single crate was packed full with the glowing orbs, each shelf housing a different color. To Aerith, it was beautiful in a strange and mysterious sense. She hadn’t a clue what they were or what they did or why Shinra had a very dark room full of them, but the excitement came with having to find out. 

At the end of the room, up against the wall sat a small gold chest. Aerith, in her awestruck state, greedily opened it, expecting to find a new color waiting inside. Instead, there were only two orbs sitting in a silk sheet, one white, the other black. 

“Huh?” Aerith tilted her head at the sight of them sitting so oddly together. 

She stared at the white orb, her eyes following the swirling mass inside of it until she couldn’t help but pick it up. Something about it called to her. As she gazed upon it, she felt at ease. She felt wise. 

Despite her childlike curiosity pouring over the orbs mere seconds ago, she felt it all wash away. She felt as though she was peering into a crystal ball, her future only a glance away. Oddly enough, she didn’t want to see it. 

So she tore her gaze away and set the white orb in her lap. 

“Why don’t I want to let you go?” she asked it, running her thumb across it, the swirling mass following her movement, “If I steal you, do you think Shinra will be really upset?”

There was no response, yet Aerith had a feeling that parting with the white orb would leave her with nothing but regret. 

She stuffed the orb into her boot, glad she decided to wear something long so it was covered. As she stood to clean the room of her curiosity, she looked over the black orb once more and smiled. 

“I think I know someone who’d like this,” she said and shoved the black orb into her other boot. 

Walking back down the hallway was awkward with stuffed boots. Aerith was afraid they would fall out, but convinced herself to stop thinking over it and keep moving. She had to stop several times to try and maneuver the orbs deeper into her boots. 

By the sixth awkward shifting of her legs, she let out a groan and kicked at the floor in a final attempt to shift the orbs into a comfortable position. She leaned down to lift her skirt up and adjust them herself, but a voice called to her before she reached the hem. 

“Are you lost, ma’am?” 

Aerith shot up instantly, hoping she didn’t look too guilty, and locked eyes with the man in front of her. He looked to be in his thirties with cropped blonde hair and a gruff face permanently turned into a scowl. Under his arm he carried a collection of neatly rolled scrolls, each tied with a leather strip. 

“Um,” Aerith giggled, “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“How did you get in here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

Remembering some of her confidence, she replied, “I’m Aerith Gainsborough of the Cetra family and I was here with my mother for a tour of the place.”

The man’s face twisted into surprise, “Cetra?”

“Yes. I got distracted by the, um,” Aerith looked at the walls hoping to find some sort of art hanging on it, but was left with nothing, “the stone. I think your architecture is very pretty.”

The man didn’t look impressed. 

“They kept going without me and I lost them. I tried looking for them, but, well…”

“You don’t seem very competent for such an influential figure.”

“Hey!” 

“Fine. Come with me,” the man waved her on and started off down the hallway in the direction he was heading, “I was going to see Shinra, anyway.”

“Thank you,” Aerith said with a bit of a curtsey to maintain the little royal semblance she had left. 

The man found Shinra and the rest of the group quickly; Aerith assumed he’d been told of his location. Immediately, her mother let out a gasp and followed it with a grunt of disgust. 

“Aerith, where in the world did you go?” she wheezed, clearly attempting to hide her embarrassment. 

Aerith nearly giggled at the sight of her reddened face. 

“I’m sorry, mother. I got distracted,” she said. 

She was met with a mixture of expressions. Tseng looked upset. Clearly, he hadn’t done his job well. Aerith could absolutely imagine him being reprimanded for letting her out of his sight. 

Sephiroth sighed and welcomed her back with a slight twitch of the lips. He bowed his head to hide the rest of his smile. Perhaps he was amused with the situation. Aerith would have to thank him later. 

Shinra, though, was glaring at her with an intimidating fire in his eyes. Aerith felt like his eyes were boring holes in her skin, opening her up and picking at her brain to figure out where she’d been. 

“Aerith,” he said, voice low in a growl, “Did you happen to stumble anywhere you shouldn’t have?”

Aerith swallowed. Hard. 

He was clearly disinterested in the reactions of those around him. Sephiroth had nearly frozen stiff. His eyes never moved, like a hawk locking in on its prey. 

“I, um, no,” she said, bowing her head slightly, “I just walked around the halls for a while looking for you.”

Shinra eyed her for a second more as if he was pressuring her to confess, but she held her ground. 

“I’m sincerely sorry,” she bowed again. 

Shinra sighed, “That’s alright. Though you were the one to suggest a tour. I’m disappointed you missed the majority of it.”

“I’m sorry,” Aerith said again. 

“Thank you, Cid,” Shinra switched his attention, though Aerith noticed how tense his shoulders remained, “Are those for me?”

The man, Cid, nodded and reached over Aerith to hand Shinra the scrolls he was carrying. Once they were out of his hands, he turned on his heel and left. 

They left shortly after that, Shinra with a tense goodbye and Tseng with his head held low. Aerith knew neither of them trusted her. She knew she was suspicious. For the ride back no one talked and Ilfana was clearly outraged. 

Aerith had gotten a stern talking to, of course, but all she could think of while it was happening was how uncomfortable her shoes were. The moment she was free of her interrogation, she rushed away to find Sephiroth. 

He wasn’t far. 

“Aerith, that was beyond risky,” he crossed his arms as she approached him. 

“I know, I know. But,” she bent down and reached into her boots, pulling out the two orbs, “It wasn’t for nothing.”

Sephiroth looked over the two orbs carefully, confusion written on his face. After a moment, he reached out and took the black orb, turning it over and over until he’d studied every bit of its surface. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Aerith giggled, “I stole it just for you.”

Sephiroth sighed, “I would thank you, but I have to admit that I’m worried. What are these?”

Aerith smiled at the memory of the glowing crates and as she told Sephiroth of the array of different colors her smile only grew, “I have no clue what they are, but something tells me they’re the key to figuring out what Shinra’s up to.”

“Shinra’s going to notice that these are gone,” Sephiroth said, but his eyes never left the black orb. 

“Look, Sephiroth,”Aerith covered the black orb with her hand to bring said man’s attention to her, “Thank you.”

Sephiroth looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed. 

“I have this terrible feeling in my soul that the Cetra deciding to work with Shinra is going to lead to utter disaster. I can’t explain it. I just know.”

“I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong.”

“Take that black orb as my way of thanking you.”

Sephiroth chuckled and gave the orb one more twirl, “It was very kind of you to steal from the second most influential house in all of Midgar just to thank me. Now, I recommend you not do anything too suspicious for a while.”

Aerith simply nodded and gave an awkward curtsy followed by a goofy grin. Sephiroth shook his head at her and rubbed his temples, groaning at her innocent gestures. 

She knew she was wading into dangerous waters. For so long she simply dipped her feet into the wet sand and let the waves wash over her feet. She’d longed to step into deeper water and let the swirling mass engulf her legs. 

Now that the water was up to her knees, she couldn’t help but want to dive all the way in.


	5. Chapter 5

_Cloud_

A stab. A slice. A cut of the wind. 

The soldier in front of him brought his sword over his head, intending to slam it down over Cloud’s skull. Cloud parried and kicked the soldier in the chest, sending him backwards. The motion hurt his injured leg, the pain in his pulled muscle still faint from yesterday’s training. 

He heard the grumbling of soldiers’ voices around him and felt the victory pats on his shoulder, but Cloud was too lost in thought to truly register his surroundings. He could only think of Yuffie’s convoluted explanations. Her demonstrations of fire materia. Her stories of the Lifestream. Her retelling of the rumors she’d heard. 

Aerith Gainsborough wasn’t a pure Cetra. 

The Cetra law of purity was strict and defining. Marrying within the family was a very old, very traditional practice, but seeing as the Cetra were one of the oldest families in all of Gaia, it made sense for them to stay true to their lineage. 

Yuffie seemed very adamant, though, that Ilfana Gainsborough had been having an affair with a non-Cetra man. Cloud recalled her telling him how she heard the guards gossiping about some scrolls that had been discovered in an office in the Cetra house detailing the affair. But if that were true, then Shinra’s presence at the Cetra house was more than a symbol of peace. 

Why was he digging up information on the Cetra? What was he planning?

“Hey! Cloud!” 

The voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Cloud whipped around, sword held tightly in his hand to cast the illusion of focus. It was Zack, arms crossed and chin high. He always looked so proud, so powerful. Yet it was his smile that gave off the familiar comfort Cloud felt safe in. 

“Zack,” Cloud gave a slight bow of his head in respect. 

“You did well today! I can tell how fast you’re improving,” Zack said, ruffling a handful of Cloud’s voluminous blonde hair. 

Cloud grunted and swiped Zack’s hand away, stepping back so he was out of reach. He didn’t feel like he was improving, but he didn’t verbally disagree. There was no need to start an argument when the first thing on his mind was that the heiress of the Cetra family wasn’t actually in line to inherit anything. 

“Do you need me for something?” Cloud asked, hoping to avoid any more confrontations. 

“Yes, actually,” Zack replied. 

Cloud perked up. Now was not the time to have to do something important only for him to be too distracted to properly execute it. 

“I just got word of a stealth mission to Wuati. I was told to recruit only two people and I want you to come.”

“What? Are you serious?” Cloud groaned, “Zack, I’m honored, but I don’t want to mess this up for you. Or for Midgar.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re completely capable of it,” Zack laid a hand on Cloud’s shoulder, “I wouldn’t be asking you if I didn’t think so. You severely underestimate yourself, Cloud.”

“But-”

“I’m serious. Plus, it’s a stealth mission. And you can’t deny that you’re one of the best at being sneaky.”

Cloud sighed. He couldn’t deny it. It was the reason why he was able to make it into the recruits. He was disastrous at hand-to-hand combat and his swordplay was only slightly better. But when it came to stealth tactics, Cloud was a natural. The soldier overseeing the group that day was impressed, to say the least. It was unfortunate that stealth tactics didn’t play a large part of everyday training. 

“Alright. Fine. What do you need me to do?” he said. 

“We’re going to disguise ourselves as a cargo carriage and sneak into a Wutai storage area. Our goal is to steal three boxes of some stuff called materia.”

“What?” Cloud nearly shouted. 

Materia? He’s introduced to the mysterious substance only yesterday and now he’s thrusted head-first into the secrets behind it? Both Shinra and the Cetra were after this materia. After talking with Yuffie, that much was obvious. 

“I mean,” Cloud cleared his throat, “What’s materia?”

Zack gave him a worried look and shrugged his shoulders, “I have no clue. I was told that it didn’t matter what it was, as long as we did the job right.”

“Alright, I’m in,” Cloud shifted anxiously back and forth. 

“It’s good to have you,” Zack gave a glowing smile and slapped Cloud on the arm, “I knew you’d come around. There’s a carriage set behind the training grounds by the outskirts of the city. We meet there at dawn tomorrow.”

“Yeah, ok,” Cloud was desperate to run back to Tifa’s tavern. 

“I’ll see you then,” Zack said, giving a playful wink and heading off to the tower in the center of the field. 

The moment Zack was out of sight, Cloud took off, dashing out of the training yard and down the street, completely disregarding his armored appearance. He ignored the crazed glances he received from the people on the streets as he darted through the alleys. If his leg was bothering him, he didn’t notice. 

Tifa would be working at this time and the tavern would probably be packed, even at this time of day. As Cloud neared the tavern, he slowed his pace and walked around to the back door, where Yuffie had fatefully rammed into him the night before. 

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart, then pushed the door open a crack. Tifa was standing behind the counter, wiping a rag over a plethora of dirty mugs. 

“Tifa,” Cloud whispered. 

She didn’t hear him over the ridiculous music and whooping coming from the front of the room. 

“Tifa,” Cloud raised his voice. 

She whipped around, startled, “Cloud?”

She took a quick look over the tavern and decided it was safe to sneak to the door, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to Yuffie. It’s urgent,” Cloud opened the door a bit wider, “Where is she?”

“She’s upstairs in my room,” Tifa said, “What is so urgent that you snuck away for?”

“If you can get me upstairs, I’ll explain it.”

Tifa sighed and glanced over her shoulder, “Alright, come on.”

The tavern customers were all deeply distracted with the bard’s performance, howling with laughter at his stories. Tifa grabbed Cloud’s arm, pulling him into the room and closed the door behind him. The stairs were right next to the counter, so getting to them wasn’t much trouble. Tifa stepped in front of Cloud and guided him up the stairs, careful to cover him with her body. 

She shoved him toward her room and said, “I can’t skip out on work, but I’ll sneak up here when I can.”

“Thank you,” Cloud sighed. 

“You owe me.”

Cloud gave her a nod and pushed through the door at the top of the stairs. He knew Tifa was living here- she didn’t have anywhere else to go- but Cloud couldn’t fathom having to share a room with Yuffie, who was the loudest and most confusing person he’d met to date. The she-devil was sitting on the bed reading one of Tifa’s books when he entered. 

“You know how to read?” he said sarcastically. 

Yuffie slammed the book shut and jumped off the bed, readying herself for a fight. 

Cloud put his hands up in a mock defense, “Woah there. I’m not going to jump you.”

“What are you doing here?” Yuffie asked, relaxing, “I thought you had to do soldier stuff all day.”

“Well,” Cloud went over to her as laid back down on the bed, “I snuck out.”

“Just to talk to me?” Yuffie peered up at him, “How thoughtful.”

Cloud cleared his throat.

“What is it?” 

“Tomorrow morning I’m going on a mission to Wutai,” he started. 

Yuffie shot up from her spot on the bed, livid, “You’re what?”

Cloud sat down next to her, “Hey, calm down-”

“There’s no way I’m going to be calm, weather boy,” she was shouting, “You’re going to Wutai? You have to take me with you. Do you realize that? You’re taking me with you, right?”

“Yuffie, quiet down. Someone will hear you.”

“Cloud,” she scooted over to him and grabbed his hands, “please. You have to take me.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Cloud sighed, “I just wanted to find out what I could about Wutai’s connection to materia. I’m starting to get on board with this whole Shinra-conspiracy.”

Yuffie wasn’t listening. She was beginning to tear up. 

“Cloud, my family,” she was trying hard not to cry, “They’re probably back home by now. I just want to get out of this place.”

“I know, but it’s way too dangerous for me to take you,” Cloud tried to tell her.

“I want to go home,” Yuffie whispered. 

Cloud took a deep breath in. He knew being away from family was difficult, especially when there was no going back. But he might be able to sneak her in. They were going to be disguised as a cargo vessel. It shouldn’t be too difficult. 

“Fine,” he said. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Cloud cracked a smile, “I’ll get you back home.”

Yuffie’s eyes lit up. She made an awkward squealing noise and flung her arms around Cloud’s neck, squeezing hard. 

“Thank you! Thank you so much,” she cried out into Cloud’s shoulder. 

“Okay, okay,” Cloud expression scrunched up as he pushed Yuffie off, “You’ve got to be quieter.”

“Sorry,” Yuffie giggled, wiping the remnants of tears from her eyes. 

Cloud figured he would be fine staying at the tavern with Yuffie for the rest of the day. He went unnoticed at training most of his days and if Zack asked where he went, he could just tell him he was on the other side of the training grounds for the rest of the day. 

They waited until nightfall when Tifa got off work and Cloud could sneak Yuffie to the grounds and into the carriage. He figured they would have everything set up for tomorrow morning by the time everyone was asleep. The Cetra military was always prepared. 

Tifa gave Cloud a hard time about taking Yuffie to a Cetra mission, but Cloud had, unfortunately, made up his mind and he didn’t want to explain to Yuffie that she would have to be left behind after all. He was generally a very logical person, but the look on her face was so helpless. 

He took Yuffie out the back door and followed the streets back to the training grounds. She was dressed in all black in an attempt to stay hidden, though the old tunic and baggy pants didn’t fit her well at all. Not that her prison dress had. 

Cloud was right in his assumptions. The carriage was prepared by the gates of the training grounds with three empty barrels and a stack of boxes loaded in the back. Three stolen Wutai uniforms, probably taken from prisoners, were folded and sitting on the benches for him and the others to wear tomorrow. 

“Yuffie,” Cloud signalled for her to jump into the back of the carriage. 

As she climbed in, it was apparent how nervous she looked. Cloud was never any good at comforting others, but he laid a hand on her shoulder anyway.

“Look,” his voice was low, “I know this is going to be really uncomfortable for you, but just for tonight, I need you to hide in one of these barrels.”

“I’m starting to regret asking to do this,” she said. 

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be back in the morning and I’ll make sure to tap your barrel three times when I get here.”

“Okay,” she nodded furiously.

“Okay,” Cloud slid his hand from her shoulder, “You’ll be okay. I promise.”

He waited until she’d lowered herself into the barrel next to the bench and closed the top to leave. Once he made sure no one was around, he jumped from the back and headed back to Tifa’s. 

Cloud was certainly in the thick of it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I have a predicament. I absolutely do not ship Aerith and Sephiroth in any way, shape, or form, but with the way this fic is shaping out to be... It might be an option. Like, a reeeaaalllyyy good option. Is anyone interested in that at all?
> 
> Also shout out to the Guest that left a comment on my last chapter. It really made my day.
> 
> The next few chapters are going to be kind of short before things really start to kick off.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I've been in a bit of a writer's block and I'm starting college soon, which is keeping me busy. I've also somehow managed to be writing two fanfiction and planning two more. So, that's something.

_Sephiroth_

The calm of the gentle breeze on a perfect summer day was what made Sephiroth feel most at peace. He was standing on top of the world at his perch on the balcony of the training building. Genesis was at his side, leaning against a beam while running his fingers across the handle of the blade attached to his hip. Sephiroth felt safe under Genesis’ watch. He was the closest thing Sephiroth had to a friend. The closest thing he had to home. 

Angeal joined them at midday. Despite being the third commander, he was by far the most responsible. Anything Sephiroth and Genesis could have possibly overlooked was taken care of by him. 

“Good afternoon, generals,” Angeal greeted with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, please,” Genesis scoffed, “There’s no need to be so uptight.”

Angeal chuckled and gave Genesis a tap on the shoulder, “The Wutai mission has commenced. I’m certain it will go well.”

Genesis shrugged Angeal’s gesture aside, instead joining Sephiroth’s side, “Wutai is so oblivious. We’ve been at war for, how long now? And they’re still blind to our strategy?”

Sephiroth hummed. 

“Pathetic,” Genesis growled. 

“Haven’t you learned to never underestimate an enemy?” Angeal said, planting himself at Sephiroth’s other side. 

“Don’t be so forgiving,” Genesis shot a smirk in his direction, “It’s a miracle Wutai has lasted this long.”

Sephiroth merely sighed and looked out at the field. Angeal and Genesis always seemed to have this dynamic. Ever since they were new recruits. Genesis found the weakness in everyone and Angeal found the strengths. Genesis pushed people to the brink and Angeal let them rest. Genesis told Sephiroth to hang a criminal and Angeal told him to spare his life. 

Sephiroth had gotten used to it. 

After pushing their bickering out of his mind, he saw a woman draped in pink folds escorting herself through the fields. Ilfana. 

“Look,” he interrupted his comrades, pointing to the head of the Cetra house strutting her way to the building. 

“Is that,” Genesis peered over the balcony, “Lady Gainsborough?”

Sephiroth turned on his heel, the other two generals following close behind, and all but ran down the stairs and out the building, meeting her halfway. She didn’t appear shocked in the slightest as the three of them bowed before her. 

“Please, rise,” she said, lifting her chin high. 

Each of the generals stood from their kneeling position and folded their hands behind their backs in a show of respect. 

“Sephiroth,” Ilfana ignored the presence of the other two soldiers, “Hojo has requested to meet with you.”

“Hojo?” Sephiroth furrowed his brows. 

Ilfana nodded, a regal smile plastered on her face. Angeal and Genesis looked Sephiroth up and down, confused, but unwilling to question. 

Genesis tapped Sephiroth on the shoulder and gave him a salute goodbye, “We’ll watch over the camp until you get back.”

When Sephiroth glanced behind his shoulder, Angeal simply shrugged, bowed to Ilfana, and followed Genesis. 

“I’ll follow you,” Sephiroth said. 

It was almost silent as they walked out of the grounds and to the house. Sephiroth had become accustomed to it, the near silence. The tuning out of everyday sounds in an attempt to focus on those which are unfamiliar became a common practice. This time, though, his focus was faulty. Ilfana seemed at ease, shoulders held high and confident. Why would she come to him about Hojo?

“I sense that you’re uneasy,” she said from in front of him, slowing her pace so they could walk side-by-side, “Could it be about Hojo?”

Sephiroth forced a chuckle, “Where did you get that idea?”

“I know about what goes on in that office.”

Sephiroth stopped. Glared. Right into the back of Ilfana’s head. She turned around, eyes steady and in control. 

“You think I wouldn’t know about what goes on in my own home?” she said, “I’m the one who permitted it.”

She knew. She knew everything. From his oldest memory, to his present state, she knew and encouraged everything. 

Sephiroth clenched his fists, each finger digging deep into his leather gloves until he was certain he’d ripped the fabric. Keeping his gaze unreadable was a challenge. Pure rage bubbled in his chest. Burned his lungs. Threatened to sear the inside of his mouth if he didn’t let it out. 

Yet he forced his breath to continue at a normal pace and relaxed his brow, “I see. How naive of me to think otherwise.”

They continued walking. 

“Hojo told me he’d like to take the next step,” Ilfana brushed a hand through her hair. 

Sephiroth watched her fingers move gently, “Yes. He’s mentioned something about that.”

“I can’t help but be intrigued. He’s onto something, that strange, genius man.”

Sephiroth would describe Hojo as anything but a man. He was a monster. An abomination. A manifestation of evil. And he was beginning to think Ilfana was too. 

By the time they reached Hojo’s office, Sephiroth managed to push his anger to the back of his mind. It was lingering, but manageable. He was the first commander of the Cetra army. He could not allow himself to make a show of his emotions. 

Hojo was by his desk, a wicked smile plastered on his face. His fingers were tracing over a curious, glowing red orb. The swirling wisps at the center seemed familiar, strangely familiar. 

“Ah, you’ve arrived,” he said, voice low and raspy. 

Sephiroth didn’t look at him, instead observing the orb in his hand. Then, it clicked. Aerith’s gift! The black orb. The night he’d received it, he spent hours staring into its core, mesmerized by the mysterious void inside of it. He’d become entranced by it. He’d fallen in love with the serene way the orb’s contents swam in endless circles. 

As Hojo neared him with the red orb, however, he felt everything but steady. 

“The next step in my plan will guarantee our victory,” Hojo said. 

Sephiroth edged backwards. 

“You will be invincible,” Hojo’s horrid breath drew closer, his free hand wrapped around Sephiroth’s silver gauntlet, tearing it from his arm. 

Sephiroth grunted, shocked at the sheer power Hojo displayed. Those wretched fingers tugged him forward, into the center of the room. Ilfana’s presence was oozing around him, reminding him of how open he was. She leaned against the door, arms crossed and lips curled into a smile. 

Sephiroth felt so powerless. His sleeve was yanked up his arm, smooth pale skin exposed to the damp room. Hojo brought the red orb over it. Sephiroth could feel an itching in his veins as the orb neared his skin. A pushing and pulling sensation shot through his left side. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, desperately trying to keep his voice calm despite the fear pulsing through him. 

His mind was spinning violently, every last nerve in his body begging for him to escape. To get away from Ilfana’s unfamiliar glare. To get away from Hojo’s disgusting, grimy hands. Sephiroth hated it. He hated feeling Hojo’s sweaty fingers dig into his wrist. He hated the weight of Hojo’s wicked smile. He hated knowing he’d surrendered his entire life to Hojo’s cruel experiments. 

“You will be a God among men,” Hojo whispered. 

The orb touched Sephiroth’s arm and a pain shot through his entire body. He stumbled, hating how he had to grab onto Hojo’s shoulder to keep himself up. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be invincible. He was supposed to be a God among men. 

Yet, as the orb sank into his arm, penetrating the skin and dispersing through his veins, Sephiroth felt nothing but fire. A destructive, raging fire. It burned through him, turning every part of him to ash. 

He stared into Hojo’s eyes, his own wild and pleading. 

Then, he screamed. 

Blood curdling and painful, he screamed. Every part of him hurt. His body was melting, crumbling, shredding into pieces. Sephiroth no longer recognized where he was. He fell to the floor, barely holding himself up on his hands.

His left arm began to sizzle and crack. Heat poured off of him. Any sounds from within the room were masked by the embodiment of pain writhing on the floor. Sephiroth could have sworn he had separated from his body. He could have sworn he was watching himself suffer. 

There were people touching him, grabbing him. He was sick of being touched. He was sick of the muffled sound of screams. He was sick of the constant, growing pain. 

So he closed his eyes and he dreamed. He dreamed of a place far away from Midgar. A place beyond Gaia. A place where he could truly become a God among men. 

A place where he could crush every last soul who’d put him in Hojo’s hands.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been pretty busy preparing for college and I move out in two weeks! I'm hoping to get the next few chapters out faster. 
> 
> The next chapter will be the Wutai mission!

_Aerith_

The ward Sephiroth was being kept in was horribly bland and devoid of warmth. The floors were brown, the walls were damps, the bed frame was creaky and uncomfortable. But it was isolated. No one knew the First General was injured and tucked away from Midgar’s prying eyes. 

Both Hojo and Aerith’s mother had already visited him. Aerith waited in the hall outside for hours, tapping the toe of her shoe into the wooden floorboards. The only reason she knew of Sephiroth’s current state was due to her mother’s frenzying about the halls the night before. Both of them exited the room with frustrated expressions and immediately engaged in a hushed conversation. Aerith slipped in while they distracted themselves.

Now that she was standing in the room alone before Sephiroth’s bed, she could feel her nerves itch. She didn’t want to look at him and his mummified left arm. He stared out the singular window, his sleek hair falling around him in a river of silver grace. 

Sephiroth looked so calm, so unaffected, so professional. His back was straight and his eyes unwavering. Even in his weakest moments, he was a soldier. 

When Aerith closed the door, he turned to her. If he was surprised by her appearance, he didn’t show it. 

“Aerith,” Sephiroth bowed his head in respect. 

“How are you feeling?” Aerith asked, pulling a stool over to the side of the bed. 

Sephiroth hummed in a way that replaced a laugh, “I would like to get out of this dreadful room.”

Aerith gave him a pitiful smile, her eyes never leaving his wounded arm, “I can only imagine.” 

Noticing her gaze, Sephiroth raised his arm shakily, his fingers twitching. Slowly, he unwrapped the bandages around his fingers, then his palm, then his arm. The entire forearm was burnt to a crisp, the flesh pink and peeling. It was disgusting.

Aerith’s hands flew to her mouth as she suppressed the urge to vomit. Watching Sephiroth struggle to bend his fingers saddened her. She could see in his eyes how he tried to stop his face from contorting in pain. 

“What-,” Aerith swallowed, “What happened?”

“I have always been Hojo’s puppet. A vessel for him to stuff with failed elixirs. It’s a miracle I’m alive.”

Sephiroth’s voice was soft, hushed, accepting. 

“In the beginning I was exposed to pain and poisons to build tolerance. I was constantly sick as a child. Then, he started to stick needles in me. I ached day and night. I could feel my body _changing_.”

“Sephiroth-”

“The thing he put in me yesterday,” Sephiroth said, “looked like the black orb you gave me. Only this one was red.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. Focus on resting,” Aerith brushed her fingers over his scarred arm, bringing it down to rest on his lap. She began wrapping the bandages back up, desperately trying not to spill any tears. 

“Aerith,” Sephiroth grabbed her wrist with his free hand. 

She looked at him. His eyes were raging, a gateway to his bludgeoned soul. There was a fire within them, a rage so deeply unwound Aerith knew she couldn’t put it out. 

“I’m deciding to trust you,” he said. 

“What?” Aerith dropped his hand. 

“Cetra and Shinra are hiding something from us. From the city. I will continue to submit to Hojo’s tests and I promise to uncover whatever secrets he’s pouring into my body.”

“Sephiroth, no,” Aerith gripped at her dress, “You can’t let this keep happening. What if the next experiment kills you? I can’t do this by myself.”

Sephiroth sat back in the bed with a sigh, wrapping the remaining strip of bandage over his deformed fingers. He took a deep breath and when he let the air flow from his lips, his eyes no longer spoke of his turmoil. 

“What other choice do I have?”

Aerith stepped into the empty hall with a heavy heart. Her entire life, she’d been spoiled. Whatever she wanted was in her hands in an instant. The city showered her with love and affection. Not once was she exposed to any pain, physical or otherwise. 

Sephiroth spent his entire life away from the eyes of affection. Aerith not only pitied him, she felt guilty. She felt guilty for living so comfortably while he suffered. She felt guilty for not knowing what lay behind his calm demeanor. 

She was walking down the hallway at a horribly slow pace, intending to go back to her room and fall onto her bed to wallow in shame. Her downtrodden mood completely vanquished, though, as she turned the corner and spotted Hojo step out of his office. At that moment, she thought she understood how Sephiroth felt. The sight of him brought her unflinching rage. 

He didn’t seem to notice her, though, and continued on his way down the hall, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. Aerith swallowed her anger and pity and sped over to the office door. Taking a quick glance around, she noticed no one paying her any mind, then slipped into the office. 

Luckily, it was empty. Aerith didn’t think anyone other than Hojo ever set foot into the room anyway. 

The first thing that hit her was the smell. It was an atrocious blend of rot and chemicals. When Aerith looked around, she found exactly that: rotted wooden tables and scattered vials of strange fluids. 

Most notably, however, was a wooden stand on the desk by the door. Sitting in it was a glowing red orb. Aerith figured this must be the thing Hojo used on Sephiroth. The thing that scarred him so badly, he would wear a reminder of his suffering until the day he died. 

Aerith wanted to break it, wanted to smash it into pieces and leave it to Hojo’s horror when he returned. She knew better than that, though. She took a deep breath and approached the desk, squatting down so she was eye level with the orb. 

“What are you?” she whispered to it, “And why are you so bothersome?”

Aerith hovered her finger over the orb, hesitantly closing in to touch it. Before she could scratch the surface, the orb began to morph, a part of its side bending into her finger. Aerith gasped. Then, she screeched. 

Flinging herself backwards, she tumbled into a heavy crate at the back of the room. The impact shoved the crate into the wall and Aerith landed with a thud on the hardwood floor. 

The orb had burned her. The sensation of its surface melting into her fingertip sent shockwaves through her veins and up her arm, shooting through her whole body. It burned horribly, scorching her skin. 

Aerith gasped for air, hyperventilating on the floor, curling in on herself until the pain eventually subsided. Her breathing slowed and with fear racking her brain, she stole a glance at her bare arms. Where she thought there would be burn marks as horrible as Sephiroth’s, there was nothing. Bringing her finger to her face, she found the only burned skin to be her fingertip. 

“Oh, God,” Aerith shuddered, “Oh, God.”

For a moment, she sat there on the floor, coming to terms with how excruciating the whole orb must feel once completely morphed in the body. How Sephiroth survived was a mystery to her. Being burnt only on the finger felt like dying. 

Blowing out a shaky breath, Aerith stood up and eyed the orb, sitting as if nothing had ever touched it. Desperately wanting to get out of the office, Aerith moved toward the door, but her heel caught on something as she did. 

Glaring at the floor, she found a wooden frame surrounding a few curious floorboards laying underneath the crate. They were hidden. 

“Huh?” Aerith grasped the sides of the crate and heaved it away from the wall. 

It was a door. A secret door. 

“Of course. Of course Hojo would hide something in here.” 

Aerith opened the door, a deep blackness staring back at her. She didn’t hesitate to drop into the void, finding it wasn’t that deep and she could easily crawl. 

_Crawl._

“This-,” Aerith murmured to herself, “This is a tunnel!” 

She hoisted herself back into the office, shut the door, and pushed the crate back over it, carefully checking that it was well hidden. 

At first, she considered going back to Sephiroth’s room to tell him of her discovery, but she quickly pushed the thought aside when recalling his fatigued state. Remembering that Zack was out on a mission all day, she figured she must venture out alone. 

Cracking the door open and slipping back out into the hallway, Aerith practically ran back to her room. She had to change into something less conspicuous.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have noticed, I now have a set amount of chapters for the fic. It took me way too long, but I've finally finished planning everything! Now that I know exactly how things are going to play out, I'm super excited to keep writing this.

_Cloud_

With every bump the carriage passed, Cloud’s anxiety spiked higher and higher. Yuffie was tucked into the barrel next to his bench, she’d tapped at the wood after he signalled he was there. Occasionally, he’d give the barrel a few kicks in an attempt of giving her comfort. He couldn’t imagine how cramped she must be. 

The other soldier that joined the mission was named Kunsel. Cloud had only seen him in passing, but it seemed he was someone Zack trusted if the banter and manly pats on the back gave any clue. They’d exchanged expectations and verbalized their trust in each others’ abilities, though Cloud wasn’t sure he would be able to go through with his plans in full. 

After several hours of sitting in a comfortable, yet anxious silence, Zack pulled a scroll from his bag and rolled it out over his lap, revealing a map. The faded ink lines detailed the southern part of a Wutai government building; the name on the top of the page was illegible. 

“This is where they’re storing the materia,” Zack pointed to a large section divided by hallways at the very back of the building, “The three of us will each split up and grab a crate. I’ll take one from this room here,” Zack pointed to the room furthest from the door, “Kunsel here, and Cloud here.”

Cloud’s room was closest to the exit, meaning he could sneak Yuffie in and out fairly easily. He nodded and sat back, feeling a bit more relaxed. They’d have to improvise their way in and out, but at least he knew the gist of their situation. He brushed his foot against Yuffie’s barrel and she tapped back in understanding. 

It didn’t take them long after that to finally reach Wutai. For a moment, Cloud revelled in the fact that he was in a different city after living so long in Midgar, but he quickly swallowed his momentary excitement and put on a focused face. The carriage jolted to a stop and Zack gave both Cloud and Kunsel a look. 

“Thirty minutes,” he said, “No more.”

Zack hopped out of the carriage and immediately ran off, not bothering to look back. Kunsel followed after him. 

Cloud took a deep breath. He stood up and cracked the lid of the barrel open. Yuffie popped out instantly, taking in the fresh air with a loud gasp. Cloud slapped a hand over her mouth. 

“You need to be quiet,” he said, thankful that the carriage was covered with a tarp so the driver couldn’t see the clearly foreign girl in the back. 

“Sorry,” Yuffie whispered, stumbling out of the barrel, “I can’t believe I’m actually back home.”

She was shaking slightly, whether from nerves or excitement, Cloud didn’t know. He jumped out of the carriage and held his hands out to help her down. 

“Can you find your way home from here?” Cloud asked. 

Yuffie took a look around and furrowed her eyebrows, “I don’t recognize this place.”

Cloud groaned and grabbed her wrists, peeking around the side of the carriage. The driver looked occupied keeping watch in front of him, so Cloud ran toward the door, dragging Yuffie behind him. 

“We don’t have much time, so I need you to try to find someone you might recognize in here to help you,” Cloud cracked the door open, finding the hall empty and rushed inside, “Got it?”

Yuffie nodded. 

The room Cloud was assigned to sat at the end of the hall, in front of an open space occupied with tables and three unassuming guards. Cloud groaned internally and pushed himself against the wall. He motioned for Yuffie to get in front of him and take a look at the few people gathered in the space. She hesitantly peeked her head over the side of the wall. When she’d been sitting there for what Cloud deemed to be too long, he tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around with hazy eyes and shook her head. 

Cloud, not wanting to waste anymore time, stood up and grabbed her hand again. The guards were engaged in a conversation and weren’t looking in their direction. Cloud darted to the door at the end of the hall, practically shoving Yuffie into it and closing the door with an equal amount of caution and intensity. 

For a while, the two were silent. They listened to whatever commotion they could make out from behind the door. Cloud only heard the distant conversation the guards were having. The two of them sighed when they deemed themselves safe. 

The room was lined in wooden shelves, each containing multiple lidless crates of glowing materia. A green light wrapped around the room, making up for the lack of windows. 

“You have to take one of those boxes, right?” Yuffie whispered, nudging into Cloud’s side, clearly nervous. 

Cloud nodded and went over to the first shelf, not bothering to examine the contents of any of the crates. He’d seen Yuffie demonstrate materia. He knew they were valuable weapons. He understood why the Cetra would want them. 

After taking a crate off the shelf and setting it on the floor, Cloud set his hands on Yuffie’s shoulders. She couldn’t seem to separate herself from his side. 

“I know this must be stressful for you, but you have to try and find a way home,” he said. 

“But, Cloud,” Yuffie began to tear up, “I don’t know where I am.”

“If someone from Midgar finds you, you’ll go back to being a prisoner. Just go up to one of the guards and tell them you escaped. I’m sure they’ll help you.”

Yuffie took a deep, shaky breath, “Okay. I’ll try.”

Cloud gave her shoulder a squeeze, took up the crate, and cracked the door open. The guards were still in the center room. While Cloud assessed the best way to exit, he couldn’t help but overhear part of their conversation. 

“They’re still coming up with a plan for how to retaliate,” said the first guard. 

“Bullshit. We should just ambush them!” said another. 

“These things take time. You know that,” the first replied. 

“They murdered the Kisaragi’s! Those men in black armor dropped them by the palace like they were ragdolls. They all deserve to suffer for this.”

Yuffie let out a pained cry and dropped to the floor. Her head hung low and her hands tightened in her hair. Cloud closed the door immediately, noticing the guards redirected glances. He grabbed Yuffie around the waist with one arm and dragged the crate with the other, ducking behind a shelf in the middle of the room. 

“Yuffie, what were you-,” Cloud tried. 

She was slumped against him, cheeks stained with tears, hands now limp by her sides. 

“Yuffie?” Cloud shook her shoulders. 

She sniffled. 

“Yuffie, we need to leave.”

The door opened and Cloud slapped a hand over Yuffie’s mouth. She didn’t respond to his touch. Footsteps echoed through the room and the unsheathing of swords rang in Cloud’s ears. He tucked the crate under his arm and pulled Yuffie up onto her heels. He tried to look into her eyes, to convey any sort of message, but she refused to lift her head. 

“Who’s there?” one of the guards bellowed in an attempt to intimidate. 

The sounds of their steps revealed all three of them were there. Cloud peeked around the side of the shelf. Two were moving down the middle aisle, the third going around the far side of the room. 

Cloud heaved Yuffie alongside him as he snuck around the corner of the shelf, waiting for the two guards to pass, then darted between each shelf before running from the room. He didn’t care if Zack or Kunsel were waiting by the carriage, the only thing on his mind was getting Yuffie somewhere safe. 

Thankfully, the carriage was empty save for the driver. Cloud dropped the crate at the back of the carriage, then turned to help lift her up. She was silent. Perhaps because she knew not to alert the driver. Cloud had a feeling that wasn’t the case. 

Sitting her down on the bench, he rested one hand on her forearm and whispered, “Yuffie, what happened?”

She kept quiet and still for a moment, but after a while gave a shudder. Then the tears started back up. Yuffie was trying her best not to sniffle or make noise, but finally, “My parents.” 

Cloud froze. The Kisaragi’s the guards spoke of- Yuffie’s reaction made sense now. 

Yuffie seemed so small. She’d slumped over so her forehead rested on her arms, silent sobs apparent in the shaking of her shoulders. Cloud sat down next to her and laid a hand over her back, gently rubbing circles through her shirt. He was no good at comforting people, but with all she’d gone through, he’d try. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m really sorry.”

Yuffie sat up slowly, cheeks red and wet. She tried to catch his glance, but another sob shook her and her head fell forward. Cloud pulled her closer and let her rest her head on his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d hugged someone so sincerely. 

By the time Zack and Kunsel returned, Yuffie was tucked back in her barrel, quiet as could be. They rode back in a hushed conversation, Cloud refusing to speak unless absolutely necessary. Zack tried multiple times to get some sort of reaction out of him, but no amount of harmless jokes could knock him from his trance. Until they got back to Midgar, Cloud could only think of the shriveled girl in the barrel. When they did get back, Cloud hardly registered Kunsel offering to take the crates in and Zack heading back to the Cetra house shortly after.

“You remember your way back to the tavern, right?” Cloud asked Yuffie when they’d managed to sneak around the side of the carriage, “Tifa will take you in. I have no doubt about it.”

Yuffie nodded, wiped at her eyes, and turned to leave without a word. 

Cloud walked into the Cetra house blindly. He was simply following Zack. His chest was tight and his throat had closed up hours ago. He could think of nothing but poor Yuffie. After all that time in some Shinra cell, she didn’t deserve to learn that they’d murdered her family. 

“Aerith?” 

Zack halted suddenly when they were only halfway down the hall, Cloud nearly ramming into him. The girl in question stood right in front of them, dressed in a plain tunic and pants three sizes too big, strung up with a worn belt. The heir of Cetra was dressed like a man and looked like she was caught in some mysterious act.

“Zack!” she stumbled over to them, “I could use your help.”

“What are you up to now?” he groaned. 

Cloud wanted to back away, but his curiosity got the better of him. 

“Come with me,” Aerith said, a devilish smirk dancing across her lips.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't mean for this chapter to take so long. College has really been kicking my ass. Things are really going to get complicated from here on out, but I'll try my hardest with this piece. I've had a few thoughts about what to do with it. I'm pondering changing the title, but that'll be something I do when I finish it if I choose to do that. This is also basically a first draft. Once I finish writing this, I want to go back and edit it so I might re-upload it if I do that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and sorry again that this took so long.

_Sephiroth_

Unsurprisingly, his strength returned to him in full within the day. After unwrapping his arms, Sephiroth noticed the burn marks were essentially unnoticeable. The skin was now smooth, only the occasional blemish peeking through. 

Sephiroth never adapted to his unusual healing abilities. Of course he assumed they were the product of Hojo’s experimentation, but he hated how abnormal it was. His whole life he’d been branded as different. As special. It was a heavy responsibility to carry on his young shoulders. He wasn’t ever given the chance to truly ponder over the consequences. Now, as an adult, he felt himself to be undeniably inhuman. 

What he felt was irrelevant. He didn’t exist to think for himself, he existed for the betterment of the Cetran army. The day he forgot that was the day of his downfall. Sephiroth had to remind himself of this constantly. 

Hojo requested his presence once more. He was attuned to the speed of Sephiroth’s recoveries and it was apparent he knew now was an opportune moment for further experimentation. Sephiroth stood in front of him once more, drowning in the musk of the office, staring emotionlessly into Hojo’s eyes. This was his way of making up for all the moments of vulnerability he was forced to show him. 

“Shall I try the red orb once more?” Sephiroth inquired, rolling up his sleeve. 

“No, no,” Hojo said with a chuckle, “I have something different for you to try.”

Hojo kept muttering. Muttering to himself over something intangible as he crept over to his desk and lifted a black orb from a small, solitary box. Sephiroth recognized it immediately. He’d been holding onto something identical. Had Hojo taken it from him? He thought he’d hidden it well. 

“I-,” Sephiroth didn’t know what to say as a wave of panic flashed through his veins. Hojo would punish him. That much was given. 

Hojo turned on his heel and held the black orb in front of Sephiroth’s face, “This is my new masterpiece.”

“What do you mean?” Sephiroth tried to keep his voice steady. 

“There was an incident a short while ago,” he said, “and we misplaced the original product.”

Sephiroth resisted letting out the sigh trapped in his chest. Hojo didn’t know he had the orb. 

“Now, though, I believe I’ve perfected the creation of materia.”

As Hojo pushed the black orb- the materia- into Sephiroth’s chest, the substance seeping through his uniform and past his skin, Sephiroth closed his eyes, wholly expecting the pain of the previous experiment to return. This time, he wanted to welcome it. For the sake of Aerith and her insistent curiosity, he would withstand the pain in hopes of discovering what it was about this mysterious substance that was so important. 

When the materia met his veins, though, there was no pain. No burning of his skin. No squeezing in his chest. Nothing. An abyss. A large black empty space. And Sephiroth was floating in it. Alone. 

Strangely, the emptiness was calming. Sephiroth looked around him and realized that there was nothing here to disturb him. There was no Hojo to prod at him. There was no Midgar to taunt him. All the weight on his shoulders disappeared. 

He felt empowered in the abyss. 

From the blackness stepped forward a curious figure. It was a woman with icy skin and freely flowing hair. She walked toward Sephiroth, arms outstretched, and cupped his face in her hands. Her fingertips were cold. It sent a wave of peace through his skin. 

Her eyes were blindingly red. As her fingers danced across Sephiroth cheeks, they sent visions into his head. 

A brief glance of his life. 

His mother’s blurred face. Who was she? Was she warm? Was the blue woman his mother? She must be. Her embrace was too genuine. 

Hojo’s twisted scowl. He deserved to be dead. His body lay mangled in the sand outside Midgar. 

Aerith’s white orb. Held tight in her palms. She looked up at the sky. Praying. 

“Do you know who I am, sweet child?” The woman’s voice was like silk. 

Sephiroth shook his head. 

“You know me. You always have. I’ve been with you since your birth, running through your blood. You are my gift to the world.”

“Mother?” Sephiroth spoke. 

“Yes, child.”

She swiped her fingers across his temples. Another vision. Shinra’s mansion. Deep in the maze of hallways. She was there. 

“The reunion shall be soon. I will see you again,” the woman said, “And I will give you the world.”

“You will give me anything I want?” Sephiroth asked. 

She nodded her head, “It is what you deserve.”

“Anything,” Sephiroth said, the sound echoing through his ears. 

The woman stepped back into the darkness, her hands trailing from Sephiroth’s face. He wanted to stay in her embrace forever, listening intently to the calling of his name. 

The calling of his name. 

“Sephiroth!” 

The blackness shrank back into reality. Hojo held the black orb in his hand. 

“What happened? Did you feel it? The power of Meteor?” Hojo huffed. 

Sephiroth looked down at the sorry excuse for a man in front of him. How small he looked. Sephiroth never noticed. 

“Say something!” Hojo raised his arm, intending to bring in down in a display of hopeless violence. 

Sephiroth caught his wrist before it could strike him. Hojo gave a pathetic grunt. Looking straight into his eyes, Sephiroth came to a realization. His visions of Mother were his alone. No one else would get to see them. No one else would get to feel her embrace. She was his.

He wouldn’t be seeing Hojo again. 

Sephiroth simply dropped Hojo’s arm, soaked in the sight of his twisted scowl, and left the office as it was, never to be used again. 

When he found himself standing before Angeal and Genesis once again, Sephiroth’s shoulders were much straighter. He stood openly, asking to be read. The two generals stared at him as though he was a new man. 

“You’re back,” Genesis said. 

As a reply, Sephiroth told them everything. Everything but Mother. 

“This is outrageous!” Genesis growled, “Midgar is being kept in the dark. They’re treating us like fools. Sephiroth, you must spread the word of this.”

“No!” Angeal laid a hand on Genesis’s shoulder, “Word getting out about this would send Midgar into chaos. It’s not right that we aren’t told of this, but chaos wouldn’t make the situation better.” 

Genesis sighed, “Then what do you think we should do, Sephiroth?”

Sephiroth looked out at the city from the balcony in the training yard. He would know what to do once Mother bestowed upon him her grace.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than usual and I think the next chapter will follow suit. Sorry if it seems like a bit of an info dump. I had to cut it short actually. Either way, I'm about to go on break so I plan to hopefully get a lot done so I can have something to post more often for a bit. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

_Aerith_

Aerith eyed the blonde boy at Zack’s side as he cautiously slipped by them and set off down the hallway. She really should have been paying more attention to her surroundings, but the hall was empty for the most part. She just needed to get into Hojo’s study without anyone noticing. 

Grabbing Zack’s wrist, she tried to tug him toward the study, but he was planted firmly in his spot in the middle of the hall. 

“Come on,” Aerith hissed, trying again to bring him along. 

He ripped his hand from her grasp, “Explain first.”

Aerith stamped her foot and crossed her arms, giving Zack an annoyed glare. He didn’t seem to waver in the slightest at her tantrum. They stared at each other for a long while, Aerith trying to get him to a more secluded area, but when she realized he was not going to budge, she gave a sigh and relaxed. 

“Fine,” she said, “but you have to come with me.”

“Deal.”

Out came the details of Aerith’s clumsy snooping in Hojo’s office. Out came the pain such a small orb sent through her body. Out came the fear that whatever Hojo was planning would bring suffering among a lot of people. 

Zack understood the severity of the situation. His brow furrowed and he’d brought a finger to his chin midway through her explanation. 

“You said you saw an orb?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Aerith reached into her pocket where the white orb lay safe by her hip and showed it to him, “It looked like this.”

Zack stared into it, mesmerized, “The mission - the one we just returned from - was about these orbs. It’s called materia.”

Aerith grabbed onto Zack’s uniform collar and pulled him down the hall towards Hojo’s office. Zack stopped her before they got to close. 

“Aerith, we can’t just barge in there,” he said. 

“This materia is dangerous. I know Hojo is going to use it to hurt people. I know it.”

“We don’t know what this stuff is or why the Cetra want it so let’s not jump to conclusions right away. The fact that you’ve dug all this up has put you in enough danger as it is.”

“It’s not just the Cetra! I got this white orb from the Shinra house. They’re working together. That’s why my mother has been meeting Shinra. That’s why they’ve been working together.”

“What?”

Zack stood in silence, tightening his grip on Aerith’s arm. The air between them was ice. 

The materia that burned her fingertip had to be the same one Hojo used on Sephiroth. It hurt him. If Sephiroth couldn’t withstand it, then no one could. Sephiroth was meant to be Cetra’s greatest weapon. Anything that could immobilize him could destroy the city. Maybe even the whole world. 

If it could hurt Sephiroth, it could hurt anyone. 

“Zack,” Aerith swallowed hard, “I think materia is meant to be a weapon.”

Before Zack could react to what she’d said, the blonde boy from earlier stepped up to them, eyes drawn intently to the orb - the materia- in Aerith’s hand. 

“I think I can help,” he said. 

Both of them turned to look at him. 

“Hojo just left,” he pointed toward the office door and sure enough, Aerith caught a glimpse of the madman’s white coat as he turned out of sight. 

“Cloud, you should stay out of this,” Zack said. 

“It’s a bit too late for that.”

“You’re in,” Aerith exclaimed, eager to get into the office now that Hojo was gone. She took off down the hall, expecting the boys to follow her. Barely registering the sound of the door closing behind them, Aerith pushed the crate aside, lifted the trap door open, and jumped down into the tunnel. 

Looking up, she found Zack and Cloud staring down at her in disbelief. 

“Are you coming or not?” Aerith said. 

Cloud hopped in next. He was curious. Aerith liked that. 

Leaving Zack to make sure the office was in the same order as it was before their intrusion, the three of them ducked through the musty dirt tunnel in hopes of discovering something of use. 

“So, Cloud,” Aerith called back to him, “What’s your story?”

“What do you mean you’re already involved?” Zack questioned, clearly cramped in the small tunnels. 

“I ran into a Wutai fugitive. My friend, Tifa, and I have been taking care of her,” Cloud said. 

And with that, he told them of how he met Yuffie and how she’d told him what materia was. How he found out that Midgar was kept in the dark about it. How it came from the energy in the Earth. Mako. 

“That’s what my mother would talk about with Shinra,” Aerith mumbled, “Mako. It was clear it was some kind of secret.” 

“So the Cetra and Shinra are working together to create materia of their own,” Zack said, “At least, that’s what it sounds like.” 

“They want in on it. Maybe they think it’ll turn the tide of the war,” Cloud seemed to be thinking aloud, “That’s why they wanted to steal some of the real thing. To try and replicate it.” 

“Hojo is testing it on Sephiroth,” Aerith said. 

Cloud stopped crawling and Zack bumped into his back, “On the General?” 

Aerith nodded. She was afraid for Sephiroth. He’d sacrificed so much for the Cetra, for Midgar. He’d given up his life to become a weapon. She couldn’t imagine how it felt to be deemed an object from birth. She couldn’t imagine how Sephiroth was able to cling to his sanity for so long. 

It only took a few more crawls through the muddy underground before Aerith reached a dead end. There was another wooden trap door above them. Aerith tried to push up on it, but it was heavy. 

“I think there’s something on top of the door,” Aerith said. 

“Here, let me,” Zack proceeded to crawl his way over Cloud and Aerith to the front of the line, crushing them both of them in the process. 

“Ow! Zack, you messed up my hair,” Aerith spat. 

“We’re in a tunnel, Aerith. Your hair was already messed up,” Zack said, pushing up on the door. He gave one big heave and managed to get the door to crack open. Slithering an arm through the crack, he searched around for whatever was on top of it and pushed it aside, eventually wrangling his other arm out to get the door to open all the way. 

Slowly, he peeked his head up. 

“What is it?” Cloud piped up. 

“I can’t tell where we are, but it looks like a storage room. It’s empty.”

Zack hopped up to offer a hand to the other two. Aerith, after being hauled up, immediately surveyed the room. It was dark and there were crates piled up to the ceiling. It was definitely a storage room. 

As Cloud scrambled out of the tunnel to help Zack put the trap door back in place, Aerith was already at the door. It creaked open louder than Aerith would have liked it to, but as she peered out into the hall, she found that the building they were in was strangely familiar to her. 

“This,” Aerith said, “This is Shinra mansion.”

Zack grumbled, “I’m not surprised. Not anymore.”

The three of them slid into the hallway, surprised there was no one else among them. 

“What should we look for?” Cloud asked. 

“Anything that stands out, I suppose,” Zack answered. 

They were stranded in the halls for a while, trying to find their way around the maze that was the Shinra mansion. Many times, they nearly ran into wanderers, but were lucky enough to duck into an adjacent hall or stranded room. Aerith was beginning to get nervous and wasn’t sure how they would find their way back to the room they started in. 

“Hey,” Cloud whispered from behind her after wandering through the halls for what seemed like an eternity, “This looks interesting.” 

Aerith scurried up to the door Cloud was pointing to. A plaque reading Mako Farm was nailed to it. 

“What do you think it is?” Zack said. 

“Only one way to find out,” Aerith pushed the door open and snuck inside, Zack trying to grab her back. 

The room wasn’t much of a room at all. Not that she could see, at least. Aerith was met with a long, dark hallway leading into a void of possibilities. Zack and Cloud slipped into the room after her, but she didn’t pay them much mind. Instead, she let her curiosity surge her forward into the darkness. 

Upon closer inspection, the hallway appeared to be built of different material than the rest of the mansion, as if it was a recent addition. Despite the constant whisper-shout for her to slow down, the time between her opening the door and her reaching the draped sheets concealing Shinra’s secrets felt like a singular passing second to Aerith. She peeked past the curtains into the enclosed space and stepped onto hastily placed wooden planks. The room was thrown together quickly. 

“Woah,” she gasped, hands thrown over her lips. 

Four large, translucent pillars sprung from the ground, their contents a sludge of glowing green. Pipes lead from the pillars into sealed canisters lining the outside of the room. 

“What is this?” Zack asked from behind her. 

Cloud crept up to Aerith’s side, eyes wide in something akin to fear, though easily mistakable for curiosity. She wasn’t sure what was so threatening about the scene before them. He stepped up to one of the pillars and peered down it. 

“This is the Lifestream,” he swallowed.

Aerith dropped her hands by her sides. The Lifestream. The river of life keeping the planet in one piece. Cetra’s biggest secret. Cetra’s biggest secret. Shinra shouldn’t know about it. And a low ranking soldier definitely shouldn’t either. 

“How do you know about the Lifestream?” Aerith growled. 

Now she understood why he was so afraid. The Lifestream wasn’t a secret after all. This Yuffie girl must have told him about it. That meant Aerith’s mother was lying to her. Midgar was being kept in the dark about the wonders of the world. 

Cetrans were supposed to be able to speak to the Lifestream. It was a story she’d always been told as a child. She recalled the nights her mother would caress her cheeks and run her fingers through her hair, singing of the many spectacles the Lifestream told her. Aerith spent years wondering when her time to come to speak to the Lifestream. She longed to hear the wonderful stories she heard it would tell her. 

But the day never came. No matter how hard she prayed to it. No matter how hard her mother tried to help. No matter the fact that it was her birthright. She was the only Cetran who couldn’t do it. For so long she watched her mother shoot sympathetic glances at her as she bowed to the earth, begging for some semblance of a voice to grace her subconscious. 

“Yuffie told you, didn’t she?” Aerith said. 

Cloud nodded, shooting her that same sympathetic glance her mother always did. 

Aerith wrapped her hands around her waist and joined them at the pillar. 

“Can someone explain to me what the Lifestream is?” Zack pouted. 

Cloud looked at Aerith, clearly unaware of the details. 

“The Lifestream is what gives the planet life. I guess this mako stuff is essentially harvested Lifestream.”

Zack looked concerned, hurt even, “Why haven’t we been told of this?”

“Cetrans are born with a special ability to speak with the Lifestream. I was told we were to keep it a secret out of fear of how the people would react. Now I’m not so sure.” 

“Not sure about what?” Cloud said.

“Why everyone else in the world knows about it except Midgar.” 

The sound of scrolls fluttering to the ground echoed from the front of the room. The three of them turned to the entrance slowly, almost comically, and were met with the gaze of the man Aerith ran into during her last visit to the Shinra mansion. Cid, if she was remembering correctly. 

“You,” Cid grunted, sweat dripping down his forehead and eyes locked onto Aerith’s.

Before he could call out or run away, both Zack and Cloud leapt at him, gripping his shoulders and pinning him to the floor. They crushed the scrolls Cid was carrying beneath their boots. He struggled for a bit, trying desperately to free himself from his restraints. Zack slapped a hand over his mouth. 

Cid’s eyes weren’t fierce, though. They weren’t threatening or scared or anything of the like. In fact, he looked about ready to give in. Aerith walked up to him, reading his expression. 

“Wait,” she said, tapping Zack on the shoulder. 

Cid had stopped wriggling by now. 

“Ease up,” she tried. 

“Aerith, he could rat us out,” Zack hissed. 

“Trust me,” she said. 

Zack and Cloud exchanged glances, but Cloud just shrugged and let go of Cid’s arm. Zack hesitated, but followed suit, making sure to sit as close as he could in case Cid decided to cause a scene. 

Cid grumbled something incoherent and rubbed at his shoulders, “I knew you were up to something troublesome.”

Cloud looked between them, “You know each other?”

“I might have stumbled into him once,” Aerith said. 

Sighing, Cid sat up all the way. Noticing Zack’s extreme cautiousness, he said, “You don’t have to worry. I won’t scream.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Zack said. 

“Will you at least let me stand up?”

Zack didn’t ease his posture, but held out a hand to assist him. Cid sighed again at the sight of his crumpled scrolls littering the ground and quickly gathered them up. He set them on one of the canisters, ignoring Zack’s pressuring gaze. 

“Why is it that you aren’t going to get us thrown in the dungeons?” Aerith asked, crossing her arms. 

“I’ve seen the dungeons more than I ever need to and, trust me your highness, I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone,” Cid answered. 

“Are you not loyal to Shinra?” Zack pushed. 

“No, not particularly,” Cid started, “But he’s given me work. Even if the work isn’t particularly enjoyable.” He stared at the ground for a minute, pondering something, his eyes glazed over with what looked to be regret. “Although I must say I’m not proud of the things I’ve done for him.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cloud said. 

Cid sat back on the canister, “I’m assuming you didn’t waltz in through the front gate.”

“No, we took the tunnel that’s no doubt serving to further this game Shinra’s playing at,” Zack growled. 

“Cetra doesn’t know about the tunnel. At least not until now.”

“Huh?” the three of them gasped. 

“How does Cetra not know about the tunnel? It leads right into Hojo’s study. Right into the heart of this mako secret!” Aerith said.

“Shinra never planned on playing along with the Cetra. Ever since Rufus’s father died, Shinra had a new goal,” Cid explained. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Zack was moving closer to Cid. 

“Rufus wants to overthrow the Cetra house. He wants to take power over Midgar.”

In a mere second, Aerith was taken back to her walk in the courtyard with Rufus Shinra. She was taken back to the way his hands moved too smoothly over her mother’s back. How his handsome face and royal manners seemed much too charming to be solely for formality. 

He was a monster. And she could smell it from the very beginning. 

Zack had taken Cid by the collar and Cloud was backing away. Aerith wanted to calm them down before they were caught. She wanted to pressure Cid into telling her every last detail of Rufus’s betrayal. She wanted to hunt Rufus down. Wanted to make him pay for his deceit. For his backstabbing plot to take her home away from her. 

She snapped out of her rage as Zack landed his first punch. 

“You snake!” he hissed, watching as Cid hit the ground, “You and all of Shinra’s goons will pay for this.”

Cid tucked a hand over his head, prepared to be struck once more. Zack lifted his foot, prepared to dig it into Cid’s ribcage. Running to Zack’s side, Aerith tugged him backwards with all her strength before he could bring his foot down. Cid wasn’t a monster. He was a man.

“Calm down!” she cried, hugging into his back. 

“Aerith, this monster is helping the people who want to ruin your family!” Zack turned to face her, rage boiling in his eyes, “How can you let this go?”

“I’m not letting it go,” Aerith said. 

She crouched down to Cid, offering him a hand. He swatted it away, but didn’t appear to be angry. 

“Your friend is right, you know,” Cid said, “I’m the one who made the tunnel. I was hired as an architect, but Shinra had other plans for my talents, I suppose. I’ll never forgive myself for going along with it.”

“Shinra had other plans for you?” Zack muttered. 

“Of course he did. He’s manipulated most of his workers into fearing him and has entrusted many with Midgar’s finest secrets. Which means I know about you,” Cid nodded toward Aerith. 

“What about me?” Aerith asked. 

Cid opened his mouth to answer, but after meeting her gaze, closed it, ignoring the question entirely. 

Cloud spoke up from behind them, “What other Shinra secrets are you hiding, then?”

“Well, I could tell you about Vincent.”


End file.
